


The Adonis in the Sunlight

by dumbhotbitchknightgwaine



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Episode: s03e04 Gwaine, Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Gwaine love story, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, merwaine - Freeform, perwaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 81
Words: 80,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbhotbitchknightgwaine/pseuds/dumbhotbitchknightgwaine
Summary: Gwaine was used to life on the road, moving from town to town without a care in the world. That is until a chance encounter at a village tavern on the outskirts of Camelot which would change everything.
Relationships: Character/Character, Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Gwaine, Merthur, Percival/gwaine, Perwaine - Relationship, merwaine
Comments: 288
Kudos: 208





	1. Same Old Story

**Author's Note:**

> This story tracks from when we first meet Gwaine in series three, how he falls in and out of love (Merwaine, Perwaine, mentions of Merthur; smut, fluff, slash fiction M/M), altering cannon just a bit.
> 
> While I've been a scriptwriter for years, this is my first ever fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy it and I'd love your feedback and comments!
> 
> (also, I have proofread this but I do have dyslexia, so please forgive any misspellings!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (1)

It is a statement of fact to say that you cannot miss what you have never had, and Gwaine was no exception. As the midday sun danced across the stream he bathed in, the conquest of last night had already faded into a fond but forgettable memory. The next village wasn’t far, which meant the next tavern wasn’t either and pulling on his clothes Gwaine swung his satchel over his broad shoulders. Sure, he didn’t have any money, but he knew he could charm his way out of any bill, or failing that, run like hell. Kept things exciting, at least. As he began the trek, a quiet smirk broke across his face; carefree in the full boom of summer, wondering who would take his fancy this evening.

...

He was on the third tankard of ale when he decided it was a wasted journey. The only patrons were old farmhands whose skin had turned leathery from long hours in the sun. Gwaine looked down into the bottom of the tankard, swilling it around in disappointment. He puffed air through his cheeks, knowing tonight would be spent travelling to the next village instead of in the warm arms of a stranger. The tavern doors swung open to little attention of the drunkards around him, but as the young men who entered brushed passed, Gwaine couldn’t help but be glad he had stuck around to finish his drink. The two men sat down, some humorous conversation taking place that Gwaine couldn’t hear. Was it flirting? It looked like flirting, as Gwaine stole sideways glances to the young man facing him, but he hoped it wasn’t. As Gwaine looked, the boy ruffled his delicate hands through his clipped dark hair, thick and unruly. It was strange, he sipped from his tankard awkwardly, as if he wasn’t used to having the luxury of resting, adjusting his red neckerchief. Gwaine’s gaze wandered over him, struck on his sparkling blue eyes, shimmering with gold like a sunset over the seas to the east, as he caught Gwaine staring. With a wink, he made the beauty blush, looking down at his feet. But he didn’t come over and the way his friend was sitting so close made it clear Gwaine would be unwelcome at the table anyway.

Out of your league, Gwaine, he thought to himself, Way out of your league.

Suddenly, a silence struck the tavern, as a brute of a man came to collect money. Before Gwaine could step in, the other of the two men had lept to action, swiftly disarming him.

‘I’ll make you pay for that’ snarled the brute.

The young man scoffed, ‘I’d like to see you try’

Well, you’re just looking for trouble, aren’t you, princess?

The brute whistled and through the door came his hoard, imposing to look at if you didn’t know how to fight, but amateurs at best compared to Gwaine. Of course, the young man didn’t know this and scampered over to his friend, shaken by the prospect of getting pulled into a brawl.

The friend, through gritted teeth, ‘You just had to open your big mouth, didn’t you Merlin’

That pair wasn’t going to win this fight in a million years and, even if they could, Gwaine wasn’t going to pass up the chance to show off.

He got up leisurely, sizing up the gang, ‘You two have gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?’ 

‘You should get out of here while you have the chance.’

He took a long sip of ale, ‘You're probably right.’

He handed the tankard to the brute, Watch this, Princess, and sucker-punched him in the face, blood spurting from his nose. With adrenaline pumping, Gwaine relished the chaos, one eye on the fight and one on the man. As Gwaine swung through another bandit, he saw the young man duck under and behind the bar. It was time to shine. 

Gwaine made a point of dragging down the biggest thug and laying him out on the floor for the man to see, ‘Pass the jug’ he took a glug of water and thumped the next bandit out cold, ‘What do they call you then?’

‘Merlin.’

He stuck out his hand, ‘Gwaine, pleasure to meet you’ in a flash Gwaine was back in the fight, the jug smashed over another mans head, ‘Such a shame’

As he delved back into the bedlam, he flicked his hair around, flashing a wink at Merlin, who involuntarily bit his lip. The sight was intoxicating, so much so he didn’t even see the bandit coming at him, and thump. Black.

It was always the same old story with Gwaine, getting seven bells kicked out of him to impress yet another cute boy.


	2. Until Next Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (2)

His mind was scrambled from the moment he winced back into consciousness. The weak sun of early morning slipped through the windowpane as Gwaine rubbed his eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Propping himself up, he surveyed the room. It was small and plain like a peasant home, but the walls were made of sturdier stuff, a servants’ quarters perhaps? 

Then he spied it, the red neckerchief hanging on the door. He’d made it back to Merlin’s room then, but for all accounts, it looked as though he’d slept alone. Beyond the door, there was a fumbling. Gwaine’s clothes were clotted with blood and dirt from the journey, he couldn’t have that. He pulled his shirt over his head, the bruises on his back giving out a pulse of pain, as Merlin walked in.

The young man paused for a moment, taken aback by the sight before him. Ripples of muscles and tousled hair draped in thin-bedlinen. As they spoke, Merlin’s eyes kept wandering down, trying to catch himself. Had he never had anyone in his room before? Surely he had, being a young man that good looking, but he perched on the edge of the bed as though he didn’t want to wake a wild animal. To Gwaine, it was adorable.

‘Why did you help us?’

Gwaine flexed his arms behind his head, trying (and failing) to hide how pleased he was at the way Merlin looked at him, ‘You’re chances looked between slim to none. I guess I just liked the look of those odds… Amongst other things.’

‘Like what?’

He stroked a strand of hair away from Merlin’s face, ‘Like you, blue eyes.’

Merlin breathed deeply, steadying himself, as Gwaine leaned in, slow, soft hands reaching beneath his tunic.

‘Merlin!’

He bit his lip in frustration, ‘I...I have to go.’

‘That Arthur won’t let you have one moment's peace will he.’

‘Sadly not.’

Gwaine took Merlin’s hand into his with a kiss, ‘Until next time, then.’

...

Unbeknownst to Gwaine, as he strolled through the bustling streets of Camelot, Merlin thought of nothing but that near kiss all day. He endured training, Arthurs constant jibes, and the endless tasks thrown at him, all with a fluttering in his heart, hoping Gwaine had decided to stay just a little longer. 

Gwaine, too, couldn’t take his mind off Merlin. Normally, such pursuits always went the same way. He’d charm them at the bar, walk them home like a gentleman, and be gone in the morning before they woke. Yet here he was, hanging around the castle of King Arthur himself, waiting for this Merlin like a dog. This was silly, he was just some guy. But that feeling he got when he was so close to Merlin was too delicious. Some strange curiosity had clouded his mind.

Get your head together, Gwaine, this is ridiculous! He thought to himself, Ahh, the tavern, now that’ll do nicely.


	3. Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (3)

The ale in Camelot was clearly stronger than that found in the outlying villages, as Gwaine found himself swaying merrily to the folk songs and revelry after only three. He clambered on to the table and downed his fourth to the applause of the crowd.

‘All drinks on me my friends!’ he bellowed before toppling over and sliding down the floor. The patrons roared in approval and Gwaine muscled into every conversation, every song, just to stop his stupid sentimentality towards that damn serving boy.

‘You drank all this?’ Merlin exclaimed.

Oh no, thought Gwaine, He really is stunning.

‘With some help from my new friends!’ the patrons cheered once more, ‘Come on Merlin, have a drink with me.’

‘Arthur is going to kill…’

Gwaine rolled his eyes, ‘Stop worrying about that idiot. Have some fun!’

Merlin tried his best not to laugh, ‘He’s the prince, you can’t talk like that here. You’ll get in trouble.’

‘Why? You going to turn me in?’ Gwaine slipped his arms around Merlin’s waist, ‘Or are you going to let your hair down and drink with me, Princess?’

With a nod Gwaine got a round in and led them to a corner table at the back. Merlin sipped his drink, skittishly glancing around in case Arthur found him off the job. Gwaine, on the other hand, couldn't keep his eyes off him. The temptation to reach out and touch Merlin was unbearable, and before he knew it Gwaine was snaking his fingers across the young man's leg.

'Gwaine. What if someone sees?'

'Let 'em watch for all I care; I don't mind people knowing I've seduced an angel like you.'

Merlin nearly choked on his ale, 'You are shameless' he spluttered, 'You barely know me. And, for the record, you have not seduced me...' the boy bit his tongue before it got the better of him, 'Yet.'

'Okay, I can work with that', Gwaine cleared his throat theatrically, "Hi, I'm Gwaine, nice to meet you…?" he gave a playful shove, 'Come on, play along.'

'Im Merlin.'

'Nice to meet you, Merlin. So, tell me about yourself?'

'What do you want to know?'

'Are you single?' 

Merlin scoffed, looking to the floor, 'Of course I am.'

He tilted his head quizzically, 'There's no of course about it. You're a gorgeous man, you're sweet, who wouldn't want to be with you? No, no you must be single by choice with the amount of people who must fling themselves at your feet, which means you have very high standards.'

'Very.' quipped Merlin without skipping a beat. The flash of sudden confidence sending a shiver down Gwaines' back, 'And you're going to have to do more than buy me a tankard of ale if you want to meet them.'

'Your wish is my command…' the boy was hard to read, but could tell he liked being able to take control of the situation, 'sir."

'Sir? I quite like that'

Gwaine raised his drink, 'A toast to you, sir. I hope to be worthy of your time and company this evening.'

Merlin gave a short smile, staring down at Gwaines' lips with concealed longing.

The evening rolled into a musky darkness, the hours passing like seconds as Gwaine listened, resting his head in one hand, the other tentatively resting of Merlin's knee. He heard about the Mele that week, and what a pain Arthur was being, and all the chores he had to do for Gaius. He listened as Merlin talked of Eeldore, his upbringing, the scrapes he'd found himself in. It seemed like the boy had had no one to talk to since he'd arrived here, and Gwaine would have listened all night, but it was kicking out time and Gwaine had to muster some manners from his drunken stupor if he wanted any chance of getting invited back.


	4. A Slave of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (4)

The more Gwaine tried to walk in a straight line, the more he veered from the path. Merlin tried to keep him going, but he was slim and tipsy and laughing too hard to be of any use. The two stumbled back to the servants quarters, shushing each other as the guards marched past, until they had finally tip-toed past Gaius and softly shut the bedroom door behind them.

Merlin lent against the door, unsure what to do, as Gwaine swung off his jacket, his shirt undone and hanging loosely over his chiseled frame. 

'You going to join me, sir?' he teased, but Merlin looked worried, 'It's okay Merlin, if you're having second thoughts I can go or I could sleep on the…'

'It's not that' Merlin interrupted, 'I want to. I really, desperately want to but… I've never, you know, gone the whole way.'

The boy shook like a leaf against the door, half in lust and half in apprehension. Gwaines' easy smile soothed away some of it, and he approached gently, just letting the tips of his fingers brush the bare skin under Merlin's tunic.

'I'll go slow and I'll stop if you want me to. Okay?' Merlin nodded, biting his lip and Gwaine began to pull their bodies closer.

Gwaine took off the neckerchief, his hot breath pooling like nectar against Merlin’s slender neck. His lips pressed in just under Merlin's ear, and he couldn't help but pull Gwaine closer, losing himself in the delicate sensation. It was all Gwaine could do to restrain himself from having Merlin there and then, the desperation for his touch rising as he felt the young man grow hard, 'Do you like this?' Gwaine whispered.

Merlin struggled to catch his breath, 'Yes.'

'Do you want more?' Merlin nodded and Gwaine guided his hands down, caressing Merlin's shaft through the fabric, 'Do you want me? Sir?'

Gwaine pulled back to look Merlin in the eyes. That nervous servant was gone, and in his place stood a vision whose whole body quaked with lust.

'Yes, Gwaine. I do want you.' Merlin entwined his fingers in a fist full of Gwaine hair, 'I want you on your knees.'

Gwaines' knees buckled. He fell to the floor, watching as Merlin undid his trousers with one hand, the other pulling on Gwaine's hair, making him wait for it, 'Go slowly Gwaine, I want to enjoy you all night.'

Obedient to his commands, Gwaine took him in his mouth inch by inch, his tongue, wet and warm, taking it's time to tease. His jaw arched open, trying to take all of him in, but it wasn't until Merlin pushed his head down in the agony of anticipation that Gwaine could finally choke.

The sound made Merlin gasp, and Gwaine pushed him deeper into his throat, gagging on Merlin's stiffening cock until he could hardly breath. Merlin jerked Gwaines' head back, taking a moment to look at this strong, fighter, who he'd reduced to a painting, flushed, slave of desire.

Gwaine got to his feet, shedding his shirt before Merlin ravenously pushed him down on the bed, reaching forward to pleasure Gwaine from behind. He wasn’t used to this, being the one pliant in the hands of another; not deciding for himself what happened next but instead arching his body to every whim of his partner. Gwaine ached for Merlin, and Merlin fulfilled every pleasure as the windowpane clouded with heat.


	5. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (5)

The sweat had cooled on his skin by the time Gwaine woke up. Merlin's arm was slung across his shoulders as he stroked the stubble on his jaw.

‘Morning, princess.’

Merlin took a breath, ‘I hope I wasn’t too… intense, last night. I’m not sure what came over me.’

Gwaine nestled into his chest, ‘Did it sound like I was complaining, Merlin?’ he whispered, husky under hooded eyes.

‘Well, no,’ he laughed, ‘But, I think I might have been a little bit selfish.’ Gwaine raised his eyebrows, smirking in slight agreement, ‘Perhaps I can make up for it now.’

Still hazy from sleep and recovering from last night, Gwaine couldn’t help but shiver as Merlin kissed him, the soft, sinful, slick of their tongues entwining, Merlin’s lips tender but certain. Gwaine gasped, finding himself in Merlin’s hands, the touch igniting. 

He grasped him harder, 'Oh fuck. Merlin, I… I'm…'

Merlin placed a finger at Gwaines' lips, his strokes becoming faster, and nodded. With a roar of ecstasy, Gwaine came, and flopped down panting in the after-glow.

'You're too good at that.' Gwaine smiled, 'And there I was thinking you were naive.'

'I have many talents, Gwaine. Unfortunately keeping Arthur waiting anymore without getting in trouble isn't one of them; I need to prepare for the Mele.' 

Merlin pressed one last kiss to the man's lips and went to leave. 

Gwaine jerked up, 'Can I see you again?'

Where had that come from, he thought, unaccustomed to being so needy.

'If you play your cards right.' Merlin quipped, 'Oh, and don't let me find you in the tavern again, the prince will have our necks as it is.'

And he watched Merlin leave, footsteps quickening over the stone floor, there was a longing in Gwaine's chest, and ache he’d never felt before. 

This isn’t going to end well.


	6. I've Only Just Found You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (6)

When Merlin reappeared that evening, his face was twisted in worry as he wiped the small flecks of blood from the cut on his hand. Sir Oswald and Sir Ethan had forged blades with sorcery in an attempt to kill the king at the Mele; it was touching how concerned Merlin was, for all his masculine prowess last night, the affection he held for his master was touching.

The ever protective Gauis piped up, ‘Merlin, Sir Oswald is a knight from a well respected family, you can’t accuse him without proof.’

‘Then we need that blade.’

The thought of Merlin getting hurt stung Gwaines’ eyes. So peculiar of him to come to care so quickly, ‘I’ll go.’

‘What if they catch you? What reason do you have to be in Sir Oslwalds’ chamber? No.’ the boy's mind was made up, ‘I’ll go.’ he got up decidedly and fled into the night.

‘Is he always this reckless?’

Gaius put his weary face into his hands, ‘You have no idea, Gwaine. It’s although he has a death wish.’

Beginning to pace, Gwaine ran his fingers through his hair, ‘I hope that braggart Arthur appreciates all Merlin does.’

‘One day. One day Arthur will see how much Merlin sacrifices for his safety, but until then… Well, it looks like he has you now.’

‘Little old me.’ Gwaine paused, ‘Wait...How did you…’

‘I might be an old man Gwaine but I’m no fool… And the walls are thin.’

Feeling his face burn pink, Gwaine went back to his pacing, trying not to think of what the old man had heard. The minutes passed and his gut churned, Something is wrong, why’s it taking this long?

‘Merlin should be back by now… I’m going to see what’s going on.’ and without a moment's more hesitation, Gwaine was running through the castle until he burst through the chamber doors. 

A blade rushed through the air, barely missing the wide eyed Merlin, who pinned himself back against the door in fear.

‘Don’t worry, I can take care of this thug’ the knight snarled as Gwain said this, arming himself with his own sword. 

He swiftly disarmed the man, his sword flashing through the air until it fell still pressed against the knight's throats. Rage rose with him like lava, the desire to kill him for the pain he caused Merlin unbearable.

‘What’s going on?’

As Gwaine turned to see the knights at the chamber door, he got thrown to the floor.

‘This man attacked me! I demand an audience with the king!’ the brute huffed.

The knights manhandled Gwaine through the door, but he managed to steal one last look at Merlin. He was panicked but unscathed, and that was worth enduring any punishment for.

Or at least that’s what Gwaine thought, right up to the moment Uther barked the words, ‘You are banished from Camelot. If you ever return, you will pay for it with your life. You have until dawn to leave the city.’

But...Merlin, tears welled in his eyes and he was dragged away, I’ve only just found you.


	7. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (7)

As he packed up his satchel, Gwaine could feel Merlin's gaze burn into him. Leaving had never been an issue before, and saying goodbye was optional at best, but now Gwaine’s heart sank heavy in his chest.

‘I’m sorry.’ Merlin whimpered.

‘Don’t be, ‘ all his energy was trying to keep his tears at bay, ‘I never stay in one place very long, people get sick of me.’ a sad smile dawned on his face.

‘I didn’t. I don’t think I could ever get sick of you.’

Gwaine dropped the satchel down and embraced Merlin, lifting the boy off the floor with his passion. The boy jumped into his strong arms, wrapping his legs around Gwaines waist and he was pushed against the wall.

‘I...I...Oh Merlin, ‘ Gwaine stole another deep kiss from his pillow lips, ‘I wish I didn’t have to go.’

Merlin pressed his forehead against Gwaine’s, ‘Then don’t.’

‘I have no choice.’

‘Then...I’ll come with you.’

For a brief moment, Gwaine let himself imagine. The two of them saddling up the horses and riding out, laying under the stars without a care in the world. But bitter reality was the wolf that could no longer be kept from the door. Merlin belonged here, with Gauis and Arthur, and Gwaine could not remain.

‘I wish, with all my heart you could, Merlin, but we both know you can’t. Just, don’t forget me, okay?’

‘As if I could.’ 

Gwaine reluctantly let go, not able to bring himself to meet Merlin’s eyes, ‘I’ll see you again Merlin. Soon, I hope.’ and with that, he was gone from Camelot, hoping to hell that Merlin found his note.


	8. Right Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One (8)

Gwaine made his way to the south of the forests outside of the city walls, making sure to swing his sword against the trees on his way, leaving a clear trail to the clearing. Of course, he didn’t know if Merlin would even find the note, but he’d already decided he’d wait there a few nights just in case. As pathetic as it felt, Gwaine already knew he’d sink to lower depths on the off chance of seeing Merlin again.

The dying embers of the fire gave way to the black cloak of night. Gwaine let it begin to burn out, a heavy sigh escaping him as he lay down, ‘Looks like it's just me and you tonight, then.’ he smiled at the lone silver moon, before closing his eyes.

‘Looks that way, yeah.’ opening his eyes, he found Merlin's face looking lovingly down at him, haloed in stars.

Words failed Gwaine, and the young boy settled his head on his chest, draping his cloak across the two of them. The fire finally gave out as Merlin nestled his head into Gwaine’s shoulder, wrapping his arms across him.

‘As much as I don’t ever want to move, I’m going to need to get that fire started again or we’ll freeze.’ but Merlin just snuggled in more, ‘Merlin, I need to…’

But Gwaine didn’t get to finish his sentence, as with nothing more than a flick of his wrist, Merlin brought the flames back to life. Suddenly, Merlin froze, realising what he had just done. He sat up with a start, eyes wide with fear, words clotting in his throat before they could come out. The poor boy looked like he was going to run for his life.

Gwain reached out to hold Merlin, to find the man flinch, ‘Merlin. It’s okay. It’s all okay.’

‘You...You aren’t...scared of me?’

Gwaine shuffled round to hold Merlin from behind, a leg on either side with his hands wrapped tightly around Merlin's middle. He pressed a kiss into Merlin’s neck, ‘I’m not like Arthur. I think magic’s beautiful. Just like you.’ Cuddled that close, Gwaine could feel the young man’s heart beat race, ‘Show me.’

Merlin raised his hand hesitantly, faltering, ‘Ye-wircan leef’ and there, simmering in the flames, a butterfly manifested, beating its wings into the heavens before falling away into tear drop embers. 

And that was it. There it was as plain as day and as deep as night.

It is a statement of fact that you cannot miss what you have never had, and Gwaine had never had love. 

Until then. Until right then.


	9. Damn It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two (1)

Happiness, for most, is something experienced with little thought. It is only when joy is wrapped in the arms of pain that it’s divine light stings the soul, and that sting hit Gwaine watching Merlin depart for Camelot in the rising sun. There was much to do for the Mele, and even more now that Arthur was honour bound to fight Ethan and Oswald.

The goodbye was short this time, but Merlin assured him they’d meet again, instructing Gwaine to send word to Camelot whenever he passed by the forest. This would be their place, their safe haven, and Merlin lent down with a kiss, sealing the promise that he would always return when called.

Satchel strung across his back, Gwaine began to walk away. 

Arthur is a good fighter, he thought, he’ll be able to beat them.

The trees swayed in the light zephyr.

And Merlin, Merlin will be able to find a way to protect him.

Gwaine stopped.

But that means he’ll risk being found out as a sorcerer...Damn it.

Gwaine turned on his heels and went back. Sure, returning was on pain of death, but as if those jumped up knights could even try to land a blow.


	10. Nobody Fights Like You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two (2)

Gwaine ducked into an empty tent on the tournament grounds, rifling through the armour as quickly as he could. He could just about remember how to get it on, but after leaving his noble life behind all those years ago, it took some effort. The cold metal felt all wrong on him, restricted and stiff. He reached for a shield and, catching his reflection, he wondered if this is what his father had looked like when he rode into battle as a knight. Would he be proud of him, risking his life to save a future king? Or, more aptly, risking his life to protect his lover. Gwaine hoped so. After all, what could be more noble? He slid the broad sword into its scabbard and headed out.

…  
The mele was in full swing as Merlin and Gaius watched from the sidelines, worry plastered on both their faces, powerless to help. It wasn’t long until Arthur was left alone on the field, two against one, when the girth snapped off Oswalds horse, causing him to crash to the ground.

Careful, Merlin, thought Gwaine as he glanced at the tyrant king in the stands.

He got to his feet and rushed towards Ethan, disarming him in one foul swoop and catching the blade. He spun his wrist and the blade pierced Ethans armour with ease. Swing around, he saw Arthur flat on his back, Oswald's blade pulled above his head to strike. Gwaine raced to the scene, blocking Oslwads sword before driving his own deep into the man's chest.

Reaching out a hand, Arthur was helped to his feet, ‘You fought bravely. The field is yours.’

He shouldn’t have taken off his helmet, not with Uther there watching, but to hell with it, he fought well and wanted Merlin to know.

Arthur laughed, ‘I should’ve known. Nobody fights like you do.’

The guards came rushing onto the battleground, but Gwaine just smiled. Merlin’s heart was in his mouth, and as Gwaine was taken away, he watched fondly as Gaius playfully shoved Merlin’s side, a knowing smirk on the old man's face.


	11. Lying Won't Make It True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two (3)

Gwaine was sat slumped in the cells when the guards appeared, ‘Ahh, come to take me to my death, have you?’ he got to his feet, ‘Let’s get it over with then.’

The guards unlocked the bars and Merlin emerged, ‘Leave us’ he said, and guards did. How strange it was for a serving boy to give out orders, ‘You’re not going to die, Gwaine, not unless I kill you for being so brash.’

He pouted, ‘So, you’re not even a little bit impressed?’

Merlin furtively looked to check they were alone, ‘Well, I didn’t say that. It was very brave. Dare I say you fought better than Arthur.’

‘Was there ever any doubt?’ Gwaine pulled Merlin by the waist into him, ‘We really must stop meeting like this, princess.’  
‘Arthur is arguing your case to the king now.’ Merlin let his own hand wrap arounds Gwaine’s muscular frame, ‘You know, you’ve saved the prince's life twice now. Maybe...Maybe they’ll let you stay.’

Reaching up, Gwaine kissed his forehead, ‘I don’t think so, Merlin. But we’ll always have the forest.’

‘They have to let you stay. They will. Even Uther can’t deny your nobility, especially now Oswald and Ethan have been unmasked. You’ll be here with me and it’ll be… You’re staying. You just are and that’s that’

‘Lying to yourself won’t make it true Merlin. Trust me.’

There was a commotion outside the cell as Arthur came down the stairs, the pair quickly stood apart, as though being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

‘Gwaine,’ Arthur went to shake his hand, ‘The king is prepared to look over the fact you competed in the Mele but.... He’s a stubborn man. He will not rescind his judgment, you must still leave Camelot.’

‘You’ve got to speak to him, Arthur’ Merlin’s voice became almost shrill with its pleading, ‘You need to make him change his mind!’

Arthur looked confused at Merlin’s tone as the young boy blushed; for all the wisdom a prince may harbour, he was clearly oblivious to Merlin’s affections.

‘I’m sorry Gwaine, If it was up to me…’

‘I know, you don’t need to explain yourself.’ Gwaine put a hand on the prince's shoulder, ‘Thank you for trying.’

‘You have until sunset to leave, so…’ Arthur stumbled, his eyes flicking to Merlin ‘If you need to...say goodbye to anyone, you have a few hours yet. It was the best I could do.’ and with that he left. Perhaps the prince was more perceptive that Gwaine had given him credit for.

‘A few hours, eh Merlin? Any ideas.’

The boy took a moment to gather himself before a mischievous smile flitted over his face, ‘One idea. One really good idea.’ and before he knew it, Merlin had grabbed him by the hand and was leading him running through the castle.


	12. The Sorcerer's Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two (4)

The pair dashed through the castle, knocking knights and servants out of the way as they did so, ‘Where are you taking me, Merlin?’

‘You’ll see,’ Merlin laughed as they raced up yet another set of stairs. 

They arrived at a tall pair of ornate doors, bolted shut, right at the height of the castle. No guards stood outside but Merlin checked anyway. ‘Aliese’ he whispered, his eyes bursting gold as the doors yielded. He playfully pushed Gwaine through them, ‘Learh fearnancai’ and the doors locked behind them.

‘No one will find us here, these chambers haven't been used in years.’

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the floors slung with furs, and furniture gilded in silver. Dying sunlight fell through the stained glass in a cascading spectrum of reds and oranges.

‘Where are we?’ 

Merlin sighed, ‘Before Uther had banned magic, it was commonplace to have a court sorcerer to advise the king and do battle alongside the knights. These are the quarters they would have held, and now are long forgotten.’

‘Perhaps these will be your quarters one day.’

‘I want that to be true, but I fear, sometimes, that it will just remain a dream.’

Gwaine couldn’t bear the sadness in his eyes, ‘Then let’s pretend. Imagine, years from now, magic has been brought back to the land and you, Merlin, having proven yourself to be the wisest, most powerful, warlock in Albion, are appointed as court sorcerer. With the land at peace, there is little work for you to do, and the days are yours to spend as you please, instead of running around after someone of a lower station. And your nights, well, they can be spent as you wish as well. With whoever you want. And I, well, I’m just grateful such a man would even look twice, let alone invite me back to his chambers.’ Gwaine lent in, a whisper brushing warm against Merlin’s ear, ‘Light the candles’

Gwaine held his gaze, watching with delight as his lovers' eyes spun as golden as the flames they conjured, before being submerged back into that deep blue sea. 

‘It must be so hard, being such an important man,’ Gwaine gently pulled Merlin towards the bed, ‘A kingdom weighing down on your shoulders. Perhaps I can help ease that burden, my lord.’  
‘Yes. I am so very tired’

Gwaine couldn’t tell if the boy was just acting along or if something really was weighing him down. Either way, Gwaine was pleased with the way he eagerly undressed, his pale skin set ablaze in the sunset.

Merlin lay down on the bed but stopped Gwaine before he could join, ‘No.’ Merlin bit his lip, ‘No clothes.’ and watched as Gwaine undressed. He was deliberately slow, relishing the way Merlin’s eyes descended over his body. Adorned with nothing but his necklace, Gwaine climbed on top of Merlin, whose hands gracefully swept over his bare skin. 

Gently, Gwaine pressed the tip of his cock against Merlin’s entrance, unsure if he should proceed, but Merlin lay a hand on the small of his back, encouraging him to do it. With a slow, steady speed, Gwaine ground his hips. Merlin shuddered with the anticipation. It felt unbearably good as Gwaine pushed deeper, torturously slow, until…

‘Ahh!’ Merlin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head in bliss.

Gwaine pulled on all the self-control he had within himself not to rut like an animal and instead rocked gently in and out. Sweat beaded on his brow as Merlin weaved his fingers through Gwaine’s hair, their foreheads resting on one another, eyes locked in a lustful embrace.

‘More. Gwaine. I need more.’ Merlin whimpered.

Gwaine pinned Merlin down by the wrists against the bed, and with a deep breath thrust forward. The two men moaned with pleasure. Gwaine couldn’t hold back and Merlin, well Merlin didn’t want him too. They writhed into each other in the candlelight; the beast with two backs aching in divine torment with every smack of skin. 

He set himself back on his knees, pulling Merlin’s hips into his as he grasped him tighter, knuckles white, pulling himself deeper. The young man reached down to stroke himself, his eyes never breaking Gwaine’s gaze. Their bodies pulsed with pleasure, undulating like the harsh whip of waves on a storm-battered sea. The intensity was ferocious as they came together, the rumble of thunder on each man's lips.

They fell into each other’s arms, holding so tight, as the after-glow dwindled to reveal reality once more. 

‘Merlin, if I have to go. If I really have to go then, I want you to know that I… I’ve fallen in…’

‘Don’t say it. It’ll only make goodbye more painful.’ For the first time in years, tears formed in the wells of Gwaines eyes. Merlin wiped them away and kissed him, ‘But I know. And I feel the same.’

…

As Gwaine passed through the city gates, he looked back to see the stained glass window of the sorcerer's quarters open, a lone figure watching him leave into the dusk.

And happiness, now vanquished, walked by Gwaine’s side, cloaked in the shroud of unbreakable loneliness.


	13. One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three (1)

Mercia was a god forsaken place. Gwaine’s angular features stuck out like a sore thumb in the company of hardened bandits and thieves. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the ale was sour. He drank it down anyway, his fifth that day. It wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

The bar keep lumbered over, ‘You going to pay for that, pal?’

Gwaine winced down another swing, ‘Might have another before then, thanks.’

The tankard was wretched out of Gwaine’s hand, ‘Pay. Now.’

Ahh, Gwaine thought, it was going to be one of those days again.

He swiped the tankard back to inspect the contents, ‘And would I pay to drink this pig swill?

Several burly brutes got to their feet and crowded around. Gwaine gave a hearty laugh as she downed the rest of his drink, ‘So, which one of you hideous bores am I going to have to take down first?’ His tankard smashed over the head of the bar keep, who flew backwards into the crowd, ‘Next?’

Behind him, three of the patrons grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket, and flung him across the table.

‘Hello Gwaine.’

His mind raced. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? After all these months? Gwaine looked up. 

‘Merlin!’ he scrambled to his feet, ‘How are you?’

The bar keep rose from the bloody mess Gwaine had put him in, ‘Give me my money!’

Merlin beamed at him, ‘Gwaine, run!’

The two of them raced through the town, ducking and diving from the brutes.

‘Not that I’m complaining, but remind me why you’re here again?’ Gwaine quipped.

‘Arthurs in trouble, he’s gone to the Perilous Lands.’

‘What?’ Gwaine couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ‘Plonker.’

The angry shouts of the crowd caught up with them and then were left with no choice but to jump from the balcony into the hay stacks away from the mob. They fled on stolen horses until they found themselves in the deep forests between Mercia and Camelot.

Gwaine jumped down from his horse and held out a hand to help Merlin, the pair still laughing from the chaos of it all.

‘It’s so good to see…’ Merlin couldn’t finish before Gwaine bundled him into his arms with a passionate kiss on his lips.

Pulling away, Gwaine's smile could have outshone the sun, ‘God, I’ve Missed you Merlin. I’ve missed you so much.’ Gwaine squeezed him in utter delight, cherishing the feel of his black satin hair, his slim frame engulfed in his arms; he couldn’t stop himself. 

‘If you would… If you…’ Merlin playfully pushed him away, ‘If you would just stop kissing me, I was going to say I missed you too.’

‘Well, that’s the thing Merlin, I don’t think I can’ and with that they tumbled down to the grass in the twilight. They were enraptured by each other, soothing every curve and contour of their bodies. Gwaine traced his fingers across Merlin’s cheekbones, over his full lips. Merlin opened his mouth, gently taking the tips of Gwaine's fingers against his tongue.

‘You know, for a moment when I first saw you, I thought maybe you’d packed it all in to join me.’

‘I would leave Camelot in a heartbeat for you Gwaine, but… It’s complicated.’

Gwaine pulled his lover close, ‘Try me.’ 

Merlin shook his head in sadness, ‘There are things I have to do, things I have no choice in. I have to put that before…’

‘Before what? Your own happiness?’ Gwaine cupped Merlin’s face in his hands, ‘Merlin, you deserve the world.’ Gwaine swallowed, ‘And, I might not have much, but you have my heart. And I’d gladly spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.’

Merlin turned his lips into Gwaine's palm, planting a kiss, ‘One day. One day, my love. But, until then, we have to save Arthur.’

The pair wrenched themselves from the others embrace and saddled the horses for the long nights ride.

…

In the dead of night, having crossed the bridge into the Perilous Lands, Gwaine watches as Merlin’s magic lights the fire once more. He relaxes into Gwaine's embraces, his fingers moving carelessly, conjuring creatures and faces in the flame. And as the light dances over the boy porcelain skin, Gwaine realises two things.

He loves Merlin. More than anything.

And that whatever he has to do, whoever he has to bow and scrape to, whatever he needs to sacrifice to be with Merlin, he will, because those months living without him just weren’t living at all.


	14. Bewitched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three (2)

The next day, Merlin and Gwaine trek through the lands in search of Arthur, following the faint outline of the Dark Tower in the distance. Suddenly, overhead, a cacophony of screeching rings out.

Gwaine draws his sword, ‘Careful, Merlin.’

‘What are those things?’

The beastly creatures dive through the air, ‘Wyverns. Distant cousins of the dragons. They’re creatures of…’

‘Phew! I was worried for a minute then.’ 

Gwaine's face contorts in confusion as the beasts continue to race towards them.

Merlin reaches out his hands, ‘O Drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd’hup’anankes!’ and the hoard of wyverns bow softly on the ground before taking flight in the other direction.

‘How...How did you...What?’

Merlin blushed, ‘Oh, yeah, I’m a dragon lord.’

Gwaine's jaw dropped, ‘A dragon lord! That’s…’ Merlin winced, as though even after all that had happened, he still thought Gwaine would reject him for his magic. If only the boy could fathom the awe he sparked in Gwaine, ‘That’s incredible. Now come on, that Arthur needs your help, he won't be able to fight those things without you, whether the clot pole knows it or not.’

And Merlin led the way, Gwaine bewitched in his stride.


	15. The Happiness He Deserves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three (3)

Arriving at the tower, the pair split up in search of Arthur, knowing the Eye of Phoenix wasn’t far off completing its task of ensuring the young prince's demise. Gwaine scoured the tower, sword drawn and he made his way up to the highest turrets. The winding stairs reminded him of when Merlin raced with him to the Sorcerer's Quarters all those moons ago, but there was no time to reminisce as the familiar screech of the wyvern echoed from down the hall. Gwaine raced into the chamber, catching a glimpse of Merlin and the Prince behind the gnarled wing of the creature. He plunged his sword into the beasts back, flicking it around with his wrist as it fell.

Merlin gave him a silent smile, thankful he didn’t have to reveal his magic in front of Arthur.

Arthur huffed in frustration, ‘Great! This just gets better and better. Are Gwen and Morgana here too? Are we going to have a surprise party?’

Gwaine held his tongue for Merlin’s sake, ‘There are more wyverns on the way. We need to get out of here.’ You ungrateful ass, Gwaine thought to himself.

‘I’m not leaving without the trident; that was the whole point of the quest’ Arthur huffed as he pushed past Merlin.

‘Do you want us to help you?’ Merlin jibed, ‘Or would you rather do this alone?’

‘MERLIN!’

And Merlin ran after him, a smile bursting from the happiness of saving the Prince. But, it was more than that. There was something else. This wasn’t just the relief a servant felt for his master's safety, Gwaine knew that look too well; It was the way he felt himself smile at Merlin. The smile he’d catch reflected in the water when he thought of his lover.

And now Merlin smiled this way, but not a Gwaine.

That was why he’d never leave. Even if the poor boy didn’t know it himself, yet.

…

Gwaine and Arthur followed as Merlin dashed up the turrets spiral stairs, ‘Look at this. Looks like a throne room.’

But as Merlin stepped in, the stone beneath his feet sank out of place, ‘Merlin! Watch out!’ Gwaine shouted, forced to push Merlin into the room, lest he be squashed by the two-tone slab of stone that crashed in front of the entrance, ‘Merlin! Are you okay? Merlin! Can you hear me?’ his cries were met with silence on the other side of the door.

‘He won’t be able to hear you through that, Gwaine.’ Arthur sighed, looking for some logical latch to prize open the trap door.

Gwaine beat his fists on the stone, ‘Merlin! Merlin!’

‘Gwaine, you need to calm down.’  
Arthur attempted to put a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder only to find the man shove him away, seething in rage.

‘How can I be calm? Any could be happening to Merlin through there! Don’t you care? Don’t you know how much he risked to come here and save your skin, boy?’

Arthur took a deep breath, ‘I understand, Gwaine, I really do, but we aren’t going to…’

‘No, you don’t! That man would lay down his life for you Arthur. He already has by coming here. He might be laying it down right now and you have the goddamn gall to tell me to stay calm! You could never understand how I…’ his voice cracked like the shatter of glass, ‘You can’t possibly know.’

Gwaine slumped down against the stone, unable to stop the tears slid down his face. He turned his eyes to Arthur, helpless.

In the thin light of day, Arthur saw Gwaine tears shimmer against his hazel eyes, before tumbling like summer rain across his face. No wonder Merlin pined after him so much, Arthur thought. He joined Gwaine on the floor, arranging his clunky armour as best he could.

‘Look. It’s not my place,’ Arthur struggled, ‘But, You and Merlin weren't exactly subtle when you were in Camelot. He didn’t smile for weeks after you left.’ he swallowed his pride, ‘I am immensely grateful for Merlin.’

‘You don’t show it.’

‘Well, you try being raised by Uther and see how you turn out.’ they gave a sad laugh together, ‘I appreciate all he does. And, I appreciate all you have done to make him happy. He deserves happiness, in whatever form it takes.’

Gwaine saw the glint of a tear in Arthurs's eye then, ‘Merlin will not leave Camelot. He told me so, but wouldn’t tell me why. We cannot be, Arthur. So, when I do leave, promise me, he will find the happiness he deserves.’

‘I promise, Gwaine, on my honour as a knight.’ Gwaine scoffed at him, ‘Alright,’ Arthur conceded, ‘I’ll promise on my life.’ He stood up and offered a hand to Gwaine, ‘Now make sure you wipe off those tears because if Merlin sees he’ll be a blubbering wreck all the way home and I really can’t deal with that.’ 

Gwaine cleared his face and helped Arthur look for a way to release the door. Maybe that Arthur might prove himself worthy of Merlin… One day...Gwaine thought to himself.

‘Now I’m sure if we just reach in here…’ Arthur pulled out a brick to find a small army of bugs tumbles out, ‘We’ll be able to find something to release the door.’

‘Go on then. Don’t be such a princess; It’s your quest after all.’ Gwaine said with a smirk.

‘Now that sounds more like you,’ Arthur smiled before tentatively reaching into the cavern.

After a few moments, the door fell open. Merlin was fine. Thank god.

Arthur slapped him on the back, the emotionally repressed fool, and Gwaine and Merlin shared a short but tender embrace. 

‘Look what I found!’ exclaimed the triumphant prince, seizing the trident.

The pair rolled their eyes fondly and embarked on the journey back to Camelot.


	16. A Small Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three (4)

The trio stopped in the forests to rest for the night, the trek to Camelot to be completed in the morning. 

‘I’ll, er, I’ll go get some fire-wood.’ Arthur ventured.

‘Since when have you known how to collect fire-wood’ Merlin scoffed, tightening his boots to head out himself.

Arthur flashed a knowing look at Gwaine.

‘Nice to see you do a bit of work for yourself for once, Arthur. Have fun.’ Gwaine laughed, and once Merlin turned away, mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Arthur, who gave an awkward thumbs up before heading out.

The horses were watered and late afternoon slipped silently into the evening, the birds quiet and the breeze gently playing with Merlin’s hair. Gwaine strolled over to Merlin, going to slip a hand on his waist before finding it battered away.

‘Gwaine! What if Arthur sees?’ Merlin had gone red as a beetroot.

‘I think Arthur already knows, Merlin.’ the poor boy was mortified, ‘Apparently, we weren’t as discreet as we’d thought.’

‘No. Arthur is many things and perception isn’t one of them.’

Gwaine leaned in a little more, ‘Why else would he have gone to get fire-wood voluntarily?’

Merlin gave a shy smile, checking just in case Arthur could still see, before taking Gwaine face in his hands and kissing Gwaine with eager excitement.

‘Mmm,’ Gwaine grabbed the man’s waist, ‘I’ve missed that.’

‘How long do you think we have?’

Gwaine cheekily grinned, ‘Long enough for me to do this.’ and with that, he marched Merlin backwards until they were pressed together against the tall oak tree. The two giggled, Merlin still making sure they couldn’t be seen as Gwaine began to place kisses on his neck, the heat of his lips making Merlin lose his breath. Gwaine pressed his body on to Merlin’s, rocking them together. Merlin was receptive, one hand tangled in his lover's hair while the other slithered down from the small of Gwaine's back. Gwaine put a hand on the oak tree, steadying himself and they ground their hips harder, the lightness of their kisses giving way to primal urges. 

Without warning, Merlin spun them around, pushing Gwaine against the tree, ‘I’m going to have you. Here. Now.’ he grabbed Gwaine's collar and led him to a clearing not far from the camp, shaded by shrubbery. Flung into the dirt, Merlin wasted no time, clawing at Gwaine’s skin, biting into his neck, a wild animal attacking its willing prey. Bruises were sucked above his collar bone, the battle scars of ecstasy he’d wear for days to come. Splayed out on all fours, Gwaine curled the dirt under his fingernails with every rapacious strain of Merlin inside him. He convulsed with every ravenous thrust, every raw, hungry, heave of their bodies lurching as one.

…

When they returned to the camp, Arthur was sat in the dark.

‘Merlin! Where the hell have you been? I can’t get this damn fire started.’

The boy laughed and set about starting the fire. As its flames took hold, Gwaine saw Arthur staring at the two of them.

‘Um, Gwaine…’ Arthur shifted uncomfortably, ‘You have twigs in your hair and…’ he spied the stains of mud on both men's knees, ‘Right.’

Merlin set about cooking the dinner as Arthur joked with him, sharpening his sword. It was an oddly domestic scene to witness, but there was an easy comfort between them. Gwaine sat back. He didn’t speak, just watched them. They’d be good together. He looked up at the twinkling stars and sighed, deciding that, for all the pain he would be in saying goodbye, it was better to have loved once, than never at all.

…

In the dead of night, Gwaine stirred awake in the cold. Merlin had crept over, arms wrapped around his waist, face pressed between Gwaine’s shoulder blades. A small mercy, to a slowly breaking heart.


	17. The Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three (5)

The trio pulled their horses to a stop just shy of Camelots borders.

‘By Uther’s decree, I can go no further,’ Gwaine lamented, ‘Looks like this is goodbye.’

‘I’m sorry Gwaine. Nothing I can do to change that.’

Merlin looked up under hooded eyes, ‘Maybe one day… Where will you go now?’

Gwaine licked his finger to feel the wind, ‘Think I’ll ride south.’ Merlin gave an understanding nod, silently agreeing to meet in the forest.

Arthur kicked his horse into a trot, ‘I’ll remember this Gwaine. Merlin.’ and the young boy dutifully followed his master, glancing back with sorrowful eyes as he entered the citadel. 

Gwaine took off on his horse, retracing his steps to the place they had met on their first goodbye, the marks in the trees still holding fast from the swipes of his sword. He attempted to start a fire, but the misty rain prevented such a comfort. He didn’t need it anyway, wrapping himself in his cloak, as his appetite was filled to the brim with the anticipation of grief. The horse had found a canopy of trees and lay itself down for the night, preventing Gwaine from seeking similar shelter, shivering in the downpour.

He and Merlin had said goodbye three times thinking it could be the last, but this time it would be. He might have been noble once, but he couldn’t compete with a prince. The life Arthur could offer Merlin, when he finally realised his own stupid feelings, was more than Gwaine could give, and if anyone deserved to leap from pauper to prince, it was Merlin.

After all those years wandering alone, it jarred that Gwaine couldn’t now imagine what life would be like without Merlin. Where would he go? What would he do? Aimlessly going from tavern to tavern seemed like a curse more than the blessing it had once been.

There was a rustling in the undergrowth, and soon Merlin appeared. Gwaine’s heart didn’t flutter, but rather encased itself in lead and sank to the pit of his stomach. The young man said nothing, but with a few flashes of gold conjured the trees to shelter Gwaine, and a fire to rise from the ground at his feet, before taking his place next to his lover, leaning on the trees. The pair stared at the flames, Merlin's head silently resting on Gwaine’s shoulder, as the misty moonlight overshadowed them both.

‘You’re not coming back, are you?’ Merlin whispered.

‘I can’t.’

‘Not even to the forest?’ he pined, ‘I’ll always come when you call.’

‘As I will to you, Merlin.’ Gwaine reached out and stroked his face, ‘In another life, we’d be together, but our fates seem to lie apart from here on.’

‘Our destinies don’t align.’ Merlin muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter.

Gwaine’s anguish was worn on his face like a wound, and Merlin could barely meet his gaze.

‘Should I stay?’ he murmured, ‘Or is a long goodbye too painful?’

Gwaine steadied himself, placing one last tender kiss on Merlin’s lips, ‘Much too painful.’

So, in an unspoken torment, Merlin got to his feet and began the long walk back to Camelot.

‘Wait,’ Gwaine called out, his voice catching on the shores of sorrow, ‘Do one thing for me Merlin, one last thing…’

‘Anything for you.’

‘The butterfly.’

Merlin smiled, and with a glimmer of gold in his eyes, like the gilded crescent of dawn, a butterfly bloomed in the flames of the fire. And the one sweet taste of bliss Gwaine had ever known dissolved into the darkness.


	18. A Boy Named Allard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (1)

He didn’t know how long it had been. Time was only measured now by the healing of scars and the clotting of blood. It was a stupid idea to return to Essetir, but after Merlin left, going back to where he grew up seemed logical somehow. The place had once been beautiful, but under the lawless rule of Cendred, the successor to Lot’s throne, the place was a darkened wasteland of drunks and bandits.

After only a few days of travelling alone away from Camelot, Gwaine had been spotted as an easy target for Jarl’s band of slave traders, but his skill with a sword had prevented his being sold, and instead was made to fight to the death every day for the amusement of his captors. As he sat in the cell, his head hung low between his knees, the other men cowered against the opposite wall. They all knew they wouldn’t stand a chance against Gwaine, and left him alone in hopes that when their time came, he would at least be quick about it. And he always was, but it didn’t make it any easier, taking an innocent life. 

When he had first been bundled into the cell, it had taken a while before Jarl chose him for a battle, giving Gwaine just enough time to meet Allard, a farm boy stolen from his home some months prior. He was much younger than Gwaine, barely a man, with wisps of flame-red hair and freckles on his cheeks. In the cold nights, Gwaine would hold him as he softly cried, shielding him from the others. The poor boy just wanted to go home, see his sister, take care of his mother. He spoke softly of a girl named Juliana. How he’d pick her bouquets of Cornflowers and Forget-Me-Nots to leave outside her door. How he’d watch in the sunset, after a hard day of ploughing the fields, as she waved to him, those self-same flowers now entwined in her saffron-coloured hair. How he would ask for her hand, as he should have done long ago, as she should have done the moment he first lay his eyes on her angelic face. But he’d never even held a sword before and knew the moment he was called would be the moment he died, with his love left at the gates of Avalon.

One night, Jarl appeared at the head of the pit. Allard was called. And Jarl, cruel as he was, having seen their kinship, turned his finger to Gwaine.

Thrown into the jeering crowd, Gwaine tried his best to lose.

Jarl marched into the ring, his stinking breath in Gwaine's face, ‘If you don’t finish him off, I’ll kill you both myself.’

Allard held up his sword, ‘It’s okay’ he mouthed, ‘It’s okay.’

Blood was drawn, and Gwaine knelt as the young boy spluttered, ‘Promise me. Stay alive and...and...My family, they’re on the border of Essetir and Camelot. And Juliana. Tell them...Tell her I…’ 

‘I will’ Gwaine cut in, and Allard faintly smiled before the light finally died from his eyes, ‘I will...’

It had been so long since Allard died and longer still that Juliana had been waiting for his safe return. Gwaine watched the sun die through the bars of the window as he heard his name called for another fight. He wanted death to sweep him into a cool embrace, but he’d made a promise, and he would make himself live long enough to keep it.


	19. How Long?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (2)

Gwaine was jostled awake by a commotion in the cell. He found the other captives standing nearby, trying not to catch his eyes. Getting to his feet, he saw the latest souls to be slung into purgatory. At least ten more were crammed in, ten more innocent men Gwaine would be forced to slaughter. He reclined against the stone behind him, closing his eyes.

‘What was that you were saying about me being a pessimist?’

That was it. He’d cracked. He’d gone mad with it all. He could hear Merlin’s voice in his head. Gwaine rubbed his eyes, the cuts on his hands opening at the pressure. But when he looked...Surely he wasn’t hallucinating? He glanced at the other captives; they were looking at Merlin too, and Arthur. He still couldn’t trust his senses and reached out a hand to Arthur's shoulder.

‘Touch me again, you die.’

Oh god. They were real. It was real.

Merlin’s eyes fell on him, ‘Gwaine?!’ and once again Gwaine was lost at sea, swept up in the tides of infatuation.

Gwaine blinked, keeping the tears of sheer joy from surfacing, ‘No manners you royals,’ he joked, ‘Merlin, old friend, you look terrible.’ Of course, he didn’t. Covered in dirt and bruises, maybe, but nonetheless radiant.

Merlin gazed at him, the smile dropping from his face into bitter grief, suddenly seeing the battle scars tattered across Gwaine’s skin.

‘Right, you filthy vermin.’ Jarl appeared at the mouth of the pit once more, ‘Which one of you’s ready to face my champion in the area? No volunteers? Well, I shall have to choose one of you toerags myself, then. Let’s see. How about…’ His eyes rested on Merlin, ‘...You?’

Gwaine’s blood turned cold. Panic flickering in Arthur’s eyes.

‘Who is this so-called champion? Can he crush nothing but weaklings like this?’ the prince piped up.

Jarl laughed, ‘You can offer me better, can you? Very well. But if you lose, I’ll feed your little friend to the crows' piece by stinking piece.’ the moment had come, ‘Are you ready my champion?’

Gwaine took a breath, ‘I am.’ Merlin and Arthur spun around in shock. Gwaine shrugged in quiet shame as he and Arthur were marched out of the room, Merlin pulled in another direction by the guard.

‘Look, make it quick, alright,’ Gwaine said as they were frogmarched to the ring.

‘I’m not going to kill you Gwaine.’

‘Then Jarl will kill us both...and Merlin.’

Arthur huffed, ‘They’re going to put swords in our hands any moment; we can fight our way out.’

‘It’s impossible,’ Gwaine grimaced, ‘You can’t get out of here. Just save Merlin and yourself. About time I died anyway.’

‘We can’t escape without you and I won’t let you die, it wouldn’t be honourable and I’d never forgive myself. Not to mention Merlin would be insufferable. So...stop moping and fight.’

The fight began to the roar of the bandits. Gwaine’s sword clashing into Arthurs, barely missing his face.

‘Take it easy will you!’

‘It’s got to look real, hasn’t it?’

The two crashed onto the floor, wrestling.

‘What now?’

Jarl rose from his chair, ‘Finish him!’ he bellowed.

All of a sudden, fire spread across the ropes above their head, setting ablaze the stolen tapestries. Thank you, Merlin, Gwaine thought. They scrambled to their feet and cut down the men running for them. Gwaine rushed to Merlin, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him to safety.

…

The trio had long outrun Jarls men when it hit him. Merlin and Arthur walked ahead, not noticing Gwaine fall to his knees in the dirt. He felt the harsh sun on his face, the sharp grass, heard the water rush in the brook. The birds screeched and the trees bore down on him. The air was thick as smog and his heart, his heartbeat too fast, racing him towards what felt like hell.

Merlin realised Gwaine had been quiet for a while and turned around to see the man reduced to a crumbled wreck, gasping for air in the cold earth. He ran to Gwaine, who pulled on Merlin’s collar, crying freely in the agony of reality, ‘How long? How long?’

‘How long? What do you…’

He shook Merlin violently, he hated himself for doing so but he couldn’t bear it, ‘How long since I left Camelot? Merlin. Merlin please, how long?’

‘Six months.’

And Gwaine crumbled.

Every night.

Every night for six whole months.

He’d taken someone’s life.

Every. Single. Night.

Every. Single. Life.

…

He couldn’t feel his body that night. The warmth of the fire felt like an illusion amid his numbness.

‘We should take him with us.’

‘He’s a wreck, Merlin. He… He needs to be with his family or something.’

‘Gwaine doesn’t have anyone. And he’s a great fighter, he will be useful to the quest. I doubt the druids will hand over the cup willingly.’

‘I wouldn’t say great.’

‘He’s better than you.’

‘Hey!’

Gwaine wanted to smile, but he couldn’t muster the energy.

‘Arthur. Please. For me, if nothing else.'

'Fine. But if he flips out again, then…'

'Will you show sympathy for once?'

And with that Merlin got up and sat down next to Gwaine, gently running his delicate fingers through his hair.


	20. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (3)

The cup of life had been lost, and Morgana sat on the throne of Camelot; the first days of her reign even more tyrannical that Uthers. Gaius and Elyan had taken shelter with the trio in a cavern in the forest, Gwen and Leon having made their escape sometime later, as Arthur tried to plan their next move.

Night had fallen and sleep evaded Gwaine once more. Every time he closed his eyes, visions of being in Jarls pit leapt up from the ashes of memory, his stomach twisting in nausea. The one saving grace was getting to be near Merlin again. The boy tended to the group, and Gwaine tried to help collect the firewood and scavenge for food, but it came at a price. Every time he reached for the hilt of his sword, he saw Allards face as life left him. Every time Merlin looked at him, it was no longer with love, but with an unbearable pity. Getting up from his bed, he slunk out into the cold night air and watched the stars. 

‘Gwaine?’ Gwen crept towards him, ‘Can’t sleep either?’

He shook his head, ‘Not these days.’

‘Arthur will find a way to defeat Morgana. There will be peace again, no matter how distant that feels.’

Gwaine sighed into his hands, ‘That isn’t what I’m losing sleep over?’

‘Merlin?’ she put a hand across Gwaine back, ‘He is my best friend and I am no fool. I saw the way you were together back in Camelot. It suited you both.

‘What did?’

Gwen let out a quiet laugh, ‘Being in love.’

The young woman was a vision of kindness, effortlessly putting Gwaine at ease for the first time since he’d left the pit. The dwindling will to live in his heart-catching, just for a moment, ‘Is Merlin happy? With…’ he gestured towards the cavern where Arthur lay.

‘With who? It took a long time to get over you if that’s what you're asking. But he seems well.’

They weren’t public, yet? How could anyone miss the love between Merlin and the Prince; it was plain as day, Gwainw thought to himself.

It stung at him that Arthur was doing anything less than singing from the rooftops that he’d won Merlin’s heart, but perhaps when the battle was over the fool would make it public. Merlin deserved to be adored in the full light of day.

‘You must try and rest, Gwaine. We will have to go into battle soon and you cannot hope to be a good fighter without any sleep. We all need you. Come on.’ and Gwaine let himself be guided in by Gwen. The others shot sympathetic looks to him, slumped over as he walked, eyes flat and lifeless.

When he lay his head down, he imagined the battle. The blood and the dirt, the foul stench of death stalking through the land of Albion. He decided as he wanted death so much, he would protect Merlin and Arthur by laying down his life. To die with honour and ensure Merlin the happiness he deserved was to die with nobility. And with the now inevitability of his own death sat quietly in his mind, Gwaine slept soundly.


	21. The Adonis in the Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (4)

Elyans’ scream wretched Gwaine from his slumber, ‘We’ve been found. They’re almost upon us!’

Gwaine leapt to his feet, grabbed his sword and raced out to battle. He stole one silent glance at Merlin, the last he would ever take, and embraced the march to death. Morgana’s henchmen were gaining ground on the group, forcing them into a narrow pass. It was now. This was the end. Gwaine didn’t flinch. He’ll give his life to protect Merlin, and indeed protect the man that Merlin loves, so at least his life meant something. He braced himself as the immortal army flung themselves towards him.

Suddenly, from way atop the ridge, a cascade of boulders fell, crushing the henchmen and blocking the path. Gwaine had to jump back, narrowly avoiding getting hit himself. What could have caused such a thing? Magic? He darted his eyes to Merlin, but the young boy was just as confused as he was.

The dust settled from the fall and Gwaine looked up, a lone figure hauling the boulders down. Gwaine had to squint as the sparking sun burnished the man’s armour in gold. He stood astride above the battleground, sweat dripping from his brow like mercury. 

The adonis in the sunlight.

Arthur marched up behind Gwaine, ‘Who is that?’

‘Don’t know…’ Gwaine caught a smile flicker on his face, ‘But I like him already.’

The figure, who appeared as though carved out of marble, locked eyes with Gwaine, just for a second. But that was all it took.

He would gladly lay down his life for Merlin and Arthur.

But maybe, just maybe, Gwaine deserved to live again too.


	22. Sir Gwaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (5)

The group had made their escape and found themselves in one of the castles of the ancient kings as night fell. Arthur called the band of brothers to join him.

‘This table belonged to the ancient kings of Camelot. A round table afforded no one man more importance than any other. They believed in equality in all things. So, it seems fitting that we revive this tradition now. Without each of you, we would not be here.’ the young Prince looked at each one of them in turn, a sincere gratitude in his eyes. It was true, he would make a fine king one day, ‘Tomorrow, I make my bid to save the kingdom. Are there any around this table who will join me?’

One by one the men got to their feet and Gwaine, with a renewed purpose to live, got to his, ‘I think we’ve no chance. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

He looked down at Merlin by Arthur’s side, the young boy noticing a flicker of the carefree man he once fell in love with surface from the depths of grief. Across the table, Percival, the man who made the mountain fall, caught Gwaine's eye. He rose to his own feet, ‘Your enemies are my enemies.’ For a man of such great stature, of such an imposing frame, Percival spoke with a low, gentle voice, that sprung Gwaine from the castle and back to the meadows, he’d known as a young man. Percival turned his gaze onto him, and nodded, as though he’d been waiting for Gwaine to speak before he did.

With all the band now standing, Arthur smiled, ‘I want to thank you all for staying loyal to me in Camelot's hour of need. I'll do something that my father won't approve of.’

They knelt in front of the fire, and one by one Arthur took his sword on each of their shoulders, ‘Arise, Sir Gwaine.’

…

The castle was a cast-iron fortress compared to the cavern they had hidden in before, but in those troubled times the now knights of Camelot could not be too careful. Gwaine slipped his sword into its scabbard and made for the door, ‘I’ll take watch tonight, you all get some rest.’

As he walked through the castle corridors, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, Percival froze.

‘Um…’ he began, so unsure of himself for a man so monumentally strong, so monumentally beautiful, ‘Safety in numbers. Unless you would rather go…’

‘No. It’s a good idea.’ Gwaine tried his best not to smile too hard, ‘I’d be glad of the company.’

With Gwaine’s permission granted, Percival caught up to him, the pair walking in silence until they emerged into the harsh night air, the sky an onyx slab bearing down on them. It was only when Percival sat down on a rock that Gwaine was able to look at him without craning his neck, but the new knight could only muster the confidence to sneak a glance or two at Gwaine.

‘You can look at me, you know. I don’t bite. Much.’

Percival laughed quietly, ‘Sorry, I’m...This is all a bit much. I’ve never been into battle before.’

‘What, but…’ Gwaine gestured to Percivals rippling muscles, ‘How?’

‘My father taught me how to use a sword before he... and Lancelot has been training me since we met. But, at the end of the day, I’m just a farmhand.

Gwaine nudged him, ‘You're a knight of Camelot, now. It’s all uphill from here. Well, if we live.’ Percival shifted uncomfortably, ‘Don’t worry. We’ll all have each other's backs. I’ll...I can look after you.’ they grinned at each other as Gwaine took a seat down next to him, ‘If you get really scared, you can always hide behind me.’

‘I don’t think that’ll work, little man.’

Gwaine laughed just before the sting came; the wounds in his hands from Jarls out weren't healing well, and the cold stone had yawned one open again.

Without thinking, Percival took Gwaines' hand in his,' Who did this to you?' Gwaine couldn't bear to recount those months in the pit, and Percival could sense the pain in his eyes, 'It's okay, you don't have to tell me… just point them out if they cross your path again and I'll kill them.'

A tear escaped Gwaine's eye and rolled down his angular face before its path was stopped by Percival's finger. He stroked it away, but his hand remained, palm cupping Gwaine's face as his fingertips played against the brush of his beard.

Words failed the both of them after that as Gwaine felt himself begin to lean towards the knight, his eyes fixed on his lips. To his utter surprise, he found Percival leaning in as well, close enough to feel his breath.

Something cracked and the two men jumped apart; across the way, Merlin had appeared to collect firewood. For the first time since they’d met, Gwaine found himself wishing Merlin wasn’t there. He flashed a smile at the pair, who waved back awkwardly.


	23. Little Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (6)

The near kiss of the night before sat uncomfortably in Gwaine’s chest, not because it had felt wrong, but precisely because it had felt so right. After being interrupted, he and Percival had sat in silence for an hour on watch, before Elyan came to relieve them with Lancelot. The silence had been nice to Gwaine, odd given his talkative nature, but just gazing at the sky, watching the spiderwebs of stars give way to the dawn of war with the farm-hand come knight by his side fluttered a breath of peacefulness to Gwaine’s heart. But there was a surging undercurrent to the placid waters, a pang of guilt that Gwaine couldn’t shake. How could he, after all the carnage he was forced to wreck, deserve this glimmer of hope? And how could he, after all the love had swelled in his heart for Merlin, even look at another? As he tried to sleep, he put the thoughts aside as best he could. Percival was young and scared of battle, who wouldn’t reach out in those desperate times? That was all it was, Gwaine reconciled; a grasping at life once more in case the worst happened. As he fell into a brief slumber, he didn’t see Percival gaze at him, nor know it was the young knight that draped a blanket over him.

...

The band of brothers gathered at the round table in the dawn light as Arthur laid out his battle plans.

Lancelot leaned into the table, ‘We need to take out the warning bell; that way the warriors will have no means of communications. I can do it, but I’ll need someone with me who knows the castle.’

‘I’ll go.’

Gwaine’s heart stopped as Merlin spoke. The image of the young boy having to run right into the heart of Camelot, into a nest of an immortal army, churned inside him.

‘Very well,’ said Arthur with reluctance, ‘Gwaine, I’ll need to go with Percival to help trap some of the guards and make our route through the castle easier. With your agility and Percival's strength, I’m sure you will be successful.’

‘Of course.’ Gwaine couldn’t bring his eyes to meet anyone in the room, trying to conceal the anguish of not being able to protect Merlin directly.

The band dispersed, gathering their weapons when Gwaine came to Percivals side, ‘Can I ask you something?’ he shifted as though his body might cramp up with the stress, ‘I don’t know Lancelot. Will he be able...can he protect Merlin?’

Percival gave a knowing smile, ‘Lancelot is the best swordsman there is, and he and Merlin have history,’ Gwaine bit into his cheek, ‘he’d sacrifice himself before letting anything happen to his friend.’

Gwaine flicked his eyes to Lancelot, the noblest of knights. He got it, he really did, but damn it hurt to his core the thought of Merlin with another, he’d made his peace with Arthur, but Lancelot? When the hell did that happen? Gwaine gritted his teeth with the tension, ‘Friend, right, yes.’

Percival cocked his head, ‘Y...You do know you said that out loud? When I say friend, I do just mean friend.’

Gwaine scoffed, trying to hide red flares that had surfaced on his cheeks, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Sure you don’t, little man.’ Percival ruffled his hair before sliding his sword into its scabbard, ‘Right. There’s a war to fight. Come on.’ Percival braced himself as the two marched out together.

‘You know,’ smirked Gwaine, ‘You don't have to call me little man. I’m not even that short.’

‘I know...but you like it when I do.’

‘I do not!’

‘Then why are you smiling?’

Gwaine’s mouth dropped open, words failing, a smile growing. It was then he felt a hand on his shoulder, ‘You got a minute?’

It was Merlin. Gwaine had a minute. He’d have a lifetime for that boy.


	24. Starved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (7)

The two of them snook back into the castle as Arthur prepared the knights, finding themselves in an old banquet hall. Dawn light fell on across the table and Merlin’s eyes glowed gold as the doors shut behind them.

‘We could die today.’

Gwaine guarded himself, trying not to be overcome with the intoxication of being alone with Merlin once more, ‘I won’t let that happen.’

‘But it still might.’

‘No, it…’ Gwaine pulled on all the restraint he could muster to stop himself from running to Merlin, embracing him in his arms, ‘You won’t die, you just won’t.’

Merlin sat on the table, eyes intensely held on Gwaine’s, ‘Why are you stopping yourself?’

‘I...I’ve made my peace with it Merlin, and I’m happy for you. I won’t ruin what you have with Arthur over my own…’

‘Arthur? What?’

Gwaine’s jaw dropped, ‘You and Arthur.’ the boy looked so confused, ‘Christ, don’t tell me the blithering idiot has done anything about it? For that matter, why haven’t you? Why do you think I left, I…’ his voice died to a whisper.

Merlin shrank in on himself, a vulnerability he’d seldom seen in the young man sending tremors through his slight frame, ‘I...I thought you left because… because you didn’t love me anymore.’

‘I left because so you could be with Arthur.’

‘I don’t want Arthur.’

Gwaine looked around him, the ruined castle spinning in his vision. This had to be hell. But that heartbreak simmered like a quaking rage in Gwaine’s chest, ‘How,’ he. growled, ‘How could you ever think I don’t love you Merlin?’ a storm of pain and lust crashed against his bones, ‘How could I ever, not, love you?’

Silence fell.

Merlin stared him down; the calm eye of the storm.

‘Then show me you love me.’

Gwaine ran forward, the need for Merlin seething within him. He grabbed Merlin and lifted him into his arms, the man's legs wrapped around his waist. Their lips crashed together like waves against the rocks, wrecking themselves on a fevered desire. The bodies surged, holding so tightly the air escaped them both. Gwaine pushed Merlin back on to the table, climbing on top, a whirlwind of kisses against voluptuous lips. Their hunger near-violent as they clawed for each other. Tempestuous bodies writhed with the heat, grunting, grinding, sweat slipping under armour. 

They didn’t have long.

But damn it, nothing else mattered.

Merlin unfastened Gwaine’s armour as the knight nearly tore through his lover's clothes. With a metallic crash, the amour hit the stone floor, the two men’s bodies searing each other with the blistering craving, as though addicts starved of their vice. 

Merlin's hand reached down, caressing his lover with wanton lust. Gwaine grunted with each tug, grinding himself into Merlin’s hand. He grabbed his love back, hard, fast, rutting like animals. Gwaine’s moral conscience gave in. He didn’t want to stand aside. He didn’t want to be noble. He wanted this selfish sin to never end. If Arthur wasn’t man enough to admit his feelings, fine. Not man enough to give Merlin what he wanted, fine. He stared Merlin in the eyes as they stroked each other, the intensity making them go faster and faster. He bit into Merlin’s neck, the man letting out a howl of satisfaction, begging for more with the barely audible word through his panting. Gwaine imagined the looks on peoples faces, seeing the suck marks on Merlin’s neck. He wanted them to know; he wanted them all to know. His possessiveness reached breaking point, and with a kiss that burned so hot it could’ve have set the castle ablaze, the two of them came together. Breathless and exhausted.

Merlin got up without a word, putting his clothes back on quickly. Gwaine struggled with his amour. The fires had flickered away into cold ash.

Merlin fiddled with his neckerchief, placing it carefully to cover the suck mark from view, as he opened the doors and went to leave. He half-turned, not meeting Gwaine's eyes, ‘Good luck.’ and with that, he was gone.

Gwaine sat still as the grave in the silence, something numb in his chest, like the faint memory of pain.

Perhaps it had been Merlin, not gentle Percival, grasping selfishly at feeling alive once more.


	25. This is New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (8)

‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’

Gwaine slapped Percival on the shoulder and darted through the corridors. The immortal guards had all gathered to protect the cup, but at Gwaine’s whistle, the idiots came running. He raced through the castle, past a hidden Elyan and Leon, right at Percival. He nearly slammed straight into his chest, but Percival managed to leap out the way, catching Gwaine in one arm while the other slammed down the gates, trapping the guards.

Gwaine flashed a smile at Percival, taking a moment to realise his strong arm was still around his waist. The knight blushed before Gwaine grabbed his hand and the two rushed up to free the knights Morgana had imprisoned.

Arthur threw the keys through the air, Percival helping to bat them in the right direction so the knights could get out of the cell. The immortal guards were relentless, and Gwaine found himself backing down a side corridor into a dead-end, fending off five. He slammed into the wall, his sword swinging through the air. Hurry up, he thought, as the guard closest raised his blade for a moral blow when...They all fell. Collapsed on the ground and drifted away into dust. Gwaine slumped against the wall, exhausted. He was alive, but more than that, he felt glad to be.

‘Wait,’ a voice from the cells began in the silence, ‘Where’s Gwaine?’ it was Percival. There was a tremor in his voice, a slight panic, ‘Gwaine? Gwaine?’ he should’ve shouted back, but he needed a moment to calm the grin blooming on his face like a flower, ‘Gwaine, are you still alive?’

He sauntered to the mouth of the corridor, leaning on the wall as he emerged, ‘What do you think?’ Percival let out a breath of relief, ‘And that’s Sir Gwaine to you.’ He winked.

The band followed Arthurs lead to claim back the throne, Gwaine waiting back for a moment to walk with Percival, ‘You fought bravely. Not bad for a farmhand.’

‘As did you. Not bad for a drunk.’ Gwaine slapped him on the arm, ‘What? Arthur told me a few stories on the way.’ Percival slowed his pace, putting some distance between the pair and the other knights until they were left alone in the corridor, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You didn’t speak the whole way to the castle. After you went off with Merlin…’ his voice dropped down to a whisper, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?

As the adrenalin from the fight wore off, Gwaine began to remember, but now wasn’t the time. He gripped Percival by the shoulders, looked him square in the face with his signature smile, and said, ‘I’m going to be, Percival, I really think I am.’

Satisfied, the pair began to follow the others, but found neither were in a hurry. Their fingertips brushed lightly against each other. Slowly, Gwaine entwined his into Percivals, walking as slowly as they could, trying to hide their smiles.

Gwaine realised he’d never done that before. Just strolled along, holding someone's hand. It was so simple, so innocent, and yet his heart hammered his chest like never before.

This is new, Gwaine thought, This is nice.

And then he caught Percival staring. And that was even nicer.


	26. Silence Spoke Louder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (9)

That night, Gwaine could hear the revelry of the victory party from the banquet hall below him, as he leaned out the window of his new chambers. He wanted to join in, but this new life was going to take some getting used to. As the other knights had settled into their rooms with ease, Gwaine was left unpacking his single satchel, its contents taking up barely a corner of the dining table, let alone the vast bedroom. He had started the fire himself, much to the surprise of the servant Arthur had sent to him. He’d sent them away with a smile, telling them to have the night off, he didn’t need anything anyway.

He’d dreamed of this day. Not of being a knight but of safely returning to Camelot, but now the twist in his chest made him unsteady, leaning against the windowpane.

A soft knock came at the door and turning around he saw Merlin, awkwardly waiting to be invited in. Gwaine beckoned him, but turned back to the window, unsure he could face the conversation he knew was to follow.

‘I…’ Merlin began, but his voice could hold the words, a quiet shame creeping across his face.

‘I’ll start.’ Gwaine steeled himself to look at the boy, the boy he’d fallen so helplessly in love with, ‘Back at the castle of the ancient kings. What was that? What the hell was it, because I have no idea.’

‘Didn’t you enjoy it?’

‘Yes,’ Gwaine admitted, ‘Right up until the point you left with barely a word.’ the tears pushed at the waterline of his eyes, he pushed them down, ‘Why did you use me like that?’

Merlin stared at his feet, perched on the very edge of the bed, unable to look at Gwaine, ‘I thought it might be the last chance we got.’

‘No,’ Merlin looked up then, ‘No, that wasn’t why. You wanted Arthur, didn’t you?’

The silence spoke louder than Merlin ever could.

‘I don’t hate you for it, Merlin. I wouldn’t have wanted to have died without the chance to be with you once more, but… To think you were with me, wishing it were him. When you said you wanted me, right up until then I thought you and Arthur were together. You came to me and I had hope again that we might have a future, that I’d got it wrong, that we could finally be together. And you used that. That you would use my love for you…’ Gwaine's voice cracked, ‘I think that broke my heart more than anything.’

He only saw Merlin’s tears as the candlelight hit them, as though rivers of honey had carved out the landscape of his angelic face. Gwaine sat next to him, wiping them away, his heart softening.

‘I’m sorry,’ Merlin choked out, ‘I’m so sorry Gwaine. I hate myself for it, I do, I’m just so… I love you. I’ve loved you for so long but there was no chance of you coming back. When we said goodbye, I didn’t know what had changed. I felt so lost. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. And Arthur knew. He helped me pick up the pieces and I realised I felt something for him...but I can’t...If he found out I had magic. He would hate me forever. I've ruined it all.’’

A sad smile made its way to Gwaine’s face, what a mess, he thought. He held Merlin in his arms and let the tears leak onto this shirt, ‘First of all, you didn’t do anything wrong. When I saw you with Arthur after we found him in the perilous lands, I saw that you had fallen in love with him. I thought you knew then. And when I spoke to Arthur, I told him to give you the happiness you deserve, he said he would so I thought that meant he was going to do something about it and tell you and…’

‘We really made a mess of this, didn’t we?’ Merlin laughed through his tears.

‘Yeah, yeah we did.’ Gwaine pressed a soft kiss onto Merlin’s lips, savouring the sweet taste of what might have been, ‘Trust me, as the man who loved you more than life, if anyone deserves the love of a prince, it’s you. And, I know the attitudes to magic are awful, but how could anyone see that utter gift you have can call it evil? He'll come around. I know he will.'

Merlin stroked Gwaine's face, ‘What are we going to do?’

Gwaine took Merlin's hand into his, ‘I’m going to be the best friend you’ve ever had.’ Gwaine grinned, ‘And I’ll stand by you forever. But there’s one condition?’ Merlin looked up, ‘If Arthur doesn’t admit his feelings by the end of the year, I get to beat it out of him.’

‘Deal,’ Merlin pressed one last kiss into Gwaine's forehead and made for the door. He paused, turning around to take another look, ‘You were always too good for me anyway.’

And that was that. Gwaine fell back on the bed, rubbing his eyes with the exhaustion of it all.

‘Gwaine?’ He looked up to find Percival ducking under the door frame, ‘You going to join the party? 

He shrugged, ‘Maybe. I’m just so tired.’

‘You know, if you need any convincing, there is ale.’

Gwaine turned to face him, still lying down, ‘Will you be there?’

The knight gave a shy smile, ‘Well, yeah…’

‘Good,’ Gwaine sprang up from the bed, ‘Time to get you good and drunk farm boy.'


	27. Percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Five (1)

The sunlight was too bright as Gwaine’s eyes rolled dry in their sockets. His first night in Camelot was, by all accounts, a success. He’d gotten royally drunk and danced on the tables, he’d sang songs, he’d made everyone laugh, but… But he couldn’t remember getting back to his room. He propped himself up from being face down, spread out like a star across his bed. Yes, it was definitely his room. He thought back over the events.

He got a drink with Percival, he danced with Gwen and Elyan, he… Halfway through his thought process, he saw him. Percival was laid out on the bare stone floor, a tiny blanket covering his arms in front of the now cold fire. It seems Gwaine got carried to bed.

He tip-toed over to the sleeping man, gently trying to rock him awake, ‘Why are you sleeping on the floor, you fool?’

Percival murmured ‘Didn’t wanna presume anything, little man.’ Re-assessing, from the slurring of his words it was more likely Percival was still drunk and the hangover was yet to come.

Gwaine gave him his arm and heaved the giant of a man to his feet, guiding him with a significant struggle to the bed. He only just managed to pull the covers out of the way when Percival flopped down giggling. Even with his sore head, Gwaine couldn’t help but smile as the muscular frame of the knight began to curl up under the still-warm sheets. Gwaine closed the curtains and started the fire; knightly duties would have to wait until he wasn’t seeing double 

‘Percival, you okay if I lie next to you? I feel like I’m dying.’

Percival nodded, ‘Yeah, climb in, little man. Little Gwaine.’ yep, the poor knight was definitely still drunk. As Gwaine got in, Percival lifted his head, ‘You know, you can just call me Percy. But don’t tell the others. Just you, okay?’

‘Percy it is then,’ and Gwaine climbed into bed, the warmth of Percival's body heat melting through him. As he lay staring at the ceiling, he felt Percival reach out, just a little, to gently hold his hand. They drifted back to sleep in seconds.


	28. Long Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Five (2)

A week had passed since Percival snuck out of Gwaine's room with his hangover and week since Lancelot had been ribbing him for it. Every time Gwaine walked in the room, Percy would blush and make his excuses to leave, which of course just made the teasing worse.

‘For the millionth time, Lance, nothing happened?’

‘So you didn’t share a bed then?’

Gwaine rolled his eyes, trying to walk ahead of them to training.

‘I don’t know about you, Lance, but I didn’t hear a no there’, Elyan chimed in, nudging Gwaine in the ribs, ‘Come on, Gwaine!’

‘Percival is one of my best friends,’ Lance hopped in front of Gwaine with a cheesy grin smacked on his face, ‘I just want to check your intentions are honourable!’

He rubbed his face and beckoned the jokers towards him, ‘Look, guys, nothing happened. And I don’t mind the jokes but I think it’s making Percival uncomfortable, so can you, you know, lay off a bit.’

Elyan cocked his head, ‘Wait...so, nothing happened?’

‘Because...I mean,’ Lance looked from Gwaine to Leyan and back again, ‘You remember what happened when you left the party, right?’

‘...No.’

Elyan grinned, ‘So you don’t remember deliberately falling off the table so Percival could catch you? And you don’t remember how he carried you like a princess all the way to your room?’

Gwaine shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t remember, but he wished he did. He swallowed, trying to suppress the thought of being bundled up in Percival's arms, laid out on the bed...Oh god, stop it Gwaine, he thought to himself. ‘All I remember is waking up and Percival was asleep by the fire. He was very gentlemanly about it.’

‘Unlike you then!’ Elyan called after him. Gwaine shot him a withering look and turned the corner outside on to the training ground. Arthur was there preparing with Merlin, and Gwaine couldn’t help but watch from afar. Merlin was clearly teasing, as the Prince kept taking playful swipes at him, bellows of laughter ringing out in the early morning sun. It was only after a few moments Gwaine even realised Sir Leon stood to one side, awkwardly trying not to stare. Having caught sight of Gwaine, he quickly made a bee-line for him.

‘Gwaine! Thank god.’ Leon slapped him on the shoulder, ‘Those two. Honestly.’

‘Ahh, so I’m not the only one who’s noticed.’

Leon sighed, ‘It’s a secret only to themselves at this point. I don’t think I can take much more.’

Before he could respond, Elyan ran in between them, ‘Sort your hair out Gwaine, lover boy’s coming.’

‘Shut up Elyan!’ Leon looked confusedly at him, ‘Oh. Long story. Don’t worry.’


	29. Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Five (3)

When training was over, Gwaine couldn’t help but relish the fact he’d knocked down Arthur in a duel. He couldn’t decide what was better, Merlin nearly falling from his chair with laughter or Percy’s quietly proud smile from the sidelines. As the other knights drifted away, Gwaine went up to Arthur as Merlin busied himself clearing up the swords and axes.

‘Sire, I wondered if I might make a request?’ the young prince turned to him, ‘I made a vow a while ago that I would send word to a young man's family regarding his…’ Gwaine's voice couldn’t help but catch, ‘I was there when he died and I need to impart his last words.’

‘Of course, Gwaine. How long do you need?’

‘Should be about three days' ride there and back, it’s just to the outskirts of Essetir.’ there was a clang as Merlin dropped a bundle of swords.

Arthur nodded at him, ‘You can go. Stay safe.’

Once Arthur had begun to make his way back to the castle, Merlin came up, a worried look in his eyes, ‘Essetir? But Gwaine last time you were there…’

‘I know, Merlin. I met the boy in Jarls pit and…’

Suddenly Merlin understood and gave Gwaine a tender embrace, ‘It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t go alone.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Gwaine brushed off with a smile, although he was dreading it in all honesty. 

Merlin didn’t look happy, but he let go and half-smiled nonetheless, ‘Just come to my chambers before you go, okay?’

‘Okay, Merlin. I will.’

…

Gwaine had packed up his satchel and saddled his horse by midday, and walked over to Merlin’s chambers to say goodbye. Gaius gave him a hearty welcome having not had the chance to see him since the battle. Looking over his shoulder, Gwaine saw Percival standing next to Merlin, giving an awkward wave.

‘Percival has volunteered to go with you.’

Gwaine looked up at Percival's handsome face, ‘That is very kind but I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Honestly, Merlin, I’ve travelled alone many times before.’

‘And always ended up in bar fights and gutters. Jarl might be gone but there are bandits everywhere around the borders. Besides, Arthur said it’s with Percival or not at all.’ Merlin crossed his arms, satisfied Gwaine couldn’t argue with that.

One the one hand, if the others saw the two of them riding off into the forest, Gwaine would never hear the end of it, even worse than after the party. On the other, the idea of spending time with Percy would be nice. It sounded silly in Gwaine's head, but the chance to hold Percival's hand again without the beady eyes of the knights following them was almost dreamy. Needless to say, he didn't take much convincing after that.

So, the two of them rode off towards the borders as Merlin waved to them from the castle balcony.

‘Is that Gwaine and Percival?’ Merlin turned around to see Leon peering over the edge as the pair, ‘Are they...Are they?’

‘I don’t think so. They’re just friends.’

‘Ahh yes. Just friends. Just like you and Arthur,’ Leon turned and walked back into the castle, muttering to himself ‘And just like with you and Arthur I’m going to have to endure Percival and Gwaine flirting at practice now too. Brilliant, just brilliant. I’m going to the tavern.’


	30. Finding Juliana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Five (4)

After a day's ride in the Autumn sun, Gwaine and Percival reached the border just before nightfall.

‘Where do we go from here?’ Percival asked.

‘Not sure. I’ll know it when I see it.’ Gwaine looked up, ‘But we’re not going to see anything now. We should set up camp for the night.’

Percival leaned over the fire after they’d eaten, warming his hands against the flames while Gwaine kicked himself back and lay looking at the stars, ‘Do you mind if I ask what this is all about?’

Gwaine propped himself up, ‘Didn’t Merlin tell you?’

‘He tried to,’ Percival shrugged, ‘But, I’m not sure he knew either.’

‘Well, it’s a long story,’ Gwaine shifted around to face Percival, his head resting in his hands, ‘and not a particularly nice one. A few months ago I was captured by a slave trader and…’ he paused as Percival gasped, giving a reassuring but nonetheless sad smile, ‘A boy named Allard had been captured as well. When I had to...When he… I was there when he died and I promised to find his family and a woman named Juliana.’

‘That’s incredibly noble of you.’ 

Gwaine’s thoughts rang with Allard's words. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay.’ That innocent smile right before Gwaine had been forced to slay him, ‘Trust me, Percival, it’s the very least I can do.’  
‘How will you know where to find them?’

Gwaine flopped back down on the ground, ‘I’ll know. When we see the girl with cornflowers and forget-me-nots in her hair, we’ll be in the right place. It’s what Allard always used to leave at her door.’

…

Morning came with a soft breeze that made the fallen leaves tinkle against Gwaine’s discarded armour. He stretched and rubbed his eyes to find Percival's sword stuck in the ground but the young knight himself was nowhere to be seen. Stumbling to his feet, he braced himself with the sword and surveyed the area. There was nothing, just the silence of the dawn.

‘Percival!’ he called out, ‘Percival!’ but his voice just echoed through the woods.

Two horses, two swords, two sets of armour; wherever the knight had gone, he’s taken nothing with him. Unless… unless he had been taken? But who, or what could possibly fight Percival, the man who could throw boulders with his bare hands? It didn’t make any sense. Suddenly, there was a rustle behind him, causing Gwaine to spin around.

‘Who’s there? Make yourself known!’ Gwaine demanded, sword drawn.

From behind the trees ducked gentle Percival, his hands up, ‘Just me. Sorry.’

Gwaine breathed a huge sigh of relief, ‘Percival! What...I thought you’d got kidnapped! Jesus, don't scare me like that!’ he cocked his head at the knight, ‘What are you doing?’

Percival swallowed and held out a hand. Grasped in his palm was a bundle of cornflowers, ‘I couldn’t find any forget-me-nots, but there should be some on the way as we head away from the stream.’ 

‘You...You got up early to pick flowers?’

Percival blushed before pushing his shoulders back, ‘One last bouquet for Juliana.’ and without a word more, Percival donned his armour and the two of them set off riding again, stopping only as they came to the corner of a meadow where a bed of forget-me-nots bloomed.

…

He called the horses to a stop in the late afternoon, spying the woman fixing a washing line with a basket of clothes under her arm.

‘I’m not sure I can do this.’ Gwaine said the words without realising. 

Percival got down from his horse and looked up at Gwaine, ‘She’ll be thankful to know, even though it’s bad news.’

Tears stung at Gwaine’s eyes, his voice a cold and shaken whisper, ‘You don’t understand Percival. I was the one who… They made me fight him and… I took his life.’

Percival said nothing and with a sudden force pulled Gwaine from the saddle. In that split second, Gwaine was sure Percival meant to kill him for his crimes, but instead found himself embraced in the knights strong arms, ‘I'm sorry you were made to do that,’ his kissed Gwaine on the top of the head, ‘but it’s not you who killed him, Gwaine. It was Jarl.’ Gwaine pulled back and looked into Percival's eyes; he’d never thought of it that way before. The knight brushed a hand over Gwaine’s stubble before tucking his hair behind his ear, ‘I’ll wait here for you. Take as long as you need.’

Gwaine steeled himself and made his way to Juliana. The young woman shielded her eyes from the sun watching him approach, but at the sight of the flowers in his hand was forced to cover her mouth lest she burst into tears. Gwaine guided her to the small wall by her home and the two sat as he recounted what had happened, or at least, as much as he could bear to recount, ‘He told me to tell you he loved you, Juliana, although I’m sure you already knew that. He spoke often of how he wished he’d asked for your hand the moment he saw you. And...even though I only knew Allard for a short while, my lady, there is no doubt in my heart he will wait for you at the gates of Avalon.’

Juliana took a deep breath, the tears falling freely down her face as she smiled, ‘Thank you, sir knight. I have spent so many sleepless nights wondering what happened to him. It’s not the news I wanted, but at least he had a friend like you there at the end.’

With a hug, Juliana made her way to Allard's family dwelling, insisting she should be the one to impart the news after realising Gwaine was just as broken-hearted as she was. He got back to Percival, silently nodding that all had gone well when the knight slipped something into his hair. Fiddling about, he pulled out a strand of soft, pink flowers, ‘What’s this?’

‘Valerian. It means strength.’ Percival carefully put it back behind Gwaine’s ear, ‘And it suits you.’


	31. Free Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Five (5)

‘He did what?’ Merlin slammed down his tankard.

Gaius had been called away to tend the sick in one of the outlying villages, leaving Merlin with the chambers to himself. Gwaine was welcomed by him rolling a barrel of ale from the tavern to the castle and the two of them had settled in at the table for a night of drinking. It was true, what Gwaine had promised, he and Merlin were going to be the best friends either of them had ever had, or at least they would be when Merlin had stopped gossiping.

‘You’re worse than Lance. No!’ Gwaine leaned in laughing, ‘You’re worse than Elyan!’

‘Oh, come on! At least I’m not making jokes about it at practise as they do.’

‘That’s only because you’re too busy staring at Arthur and we both know it.’

‘I...Shut up.’ Merlin took a long sip of ale. Surprisingly, the boy wasn’t the lightweight he had once been, and was almost outdrinking Gwaine, ‘Anyway. We aren’t talking about me.’ Merlin raised his eyebrows, expectant of more detail.

‘Fine. He...he put a Valerian flower in my hair.’

‘That symbolises strength!’

Gwaine downed the rest of his ale, ‘How is it that you and Percival both know so much about flowers all of a sudden?’

Merlin took the cup from his hand and began pouring them both another, ‘We were both raised on farms. Not all of us got to grow up noble. So, get to it, what happened next.’

‘We came back to Camelot.’ Merlin was not satisfied with this, ‘I mean, we kind of...held hands one night but, that was it.’

‘Listen Gwaine.’ Merlin was already halfway through his next drink out of sheer frustration, ‘You are, among many things, the most shameless flirt I’ve ever met. And, you’re not exactly one to wait around when it comes to this kind of thing. Do you not like him or…?’

‘No I…’ Gwaine bit his tongue, knowing he’d answered a little too quickly, ‘I do. I’m just...You know what it is? Every time I've gone after someone in the past, I always knew, worst came to worst, I could run away to the next town. I can’t do that this time. I don’t want to mess it up.’ Gwaine threw his head in his hands, ‘Plus he’s fucking gorgeous and I can’t deal with it.’

Merlin threw his head back laughing so hard the guard came in to check if he was okay, ‘He’s fine, he’s just an idiot,’ Merlin slapped Gwaine’s shoulder and the guard left, ‘So, had Arthur come to his senses and done anything?’

Merlin let out a defeated sigh, ‘What do you think?’

‘I think you need to get your act together and do something about it yourself.’

'I could say the same to you.' Merlin poured even more ale, he really was going through it that night, ‘Well, until then, I’ll just enjoy being a free man.’

The two clinked their tankards together in a cheers. Merlin peered over the edge of his cup at Gwaine, ‘Guess, you’re still a free man too.’

‘Guess I am, yeah.’ Gwaine felt his breathing get deeper. No Gwaine, he thought to himself, No. Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. But Merlin was letting his eyes wander and he could feel his gaze burning into his body, ‘Merlin.’

‘I haven’t done anything. Yet.’

It had been a long time since Gwaine had been with anyone, and from the way Merlin was edging closer, it seemed the frustration was mutual.

‘We shouldn’t, Merlin.’ but at hearing this, Merlin just smirked. His eyes glowed gold and candle-light dimmed, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Gwaine’s voice was barely a whisper.

Merlin leaned his head back as he bit his lip, another flash of gold and the threads on Gwaine’s tunic began to loosen. Then his belt. Merlin just put his hands behind his head and watched intently as Gwaine’s athletic form was slowly revealed.

He rose from his chair and placed a finger under Gwaine’s chin, forcing him to look up in his helpless lust, ‘You can leave. Or you can stay, and do as you're told...Like you know you want to.’

Gwaine couldn’t take his eyes off him, ‘I’m mean... For old times sake.’ he couldn’t help himself, ‘Sir.’

With that, Merlin grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in the direction of the bed, but of course, they didn’t make it that far. With a flick of his wrist, Merlin cleared the table just in time to pull Gwaine on top of him, the knight straddling his waist as he pulled off his tunic. Merlin stroked his fingers over Gwaine’s chest, suppressing a shiver of want as Gwaine took his fingertips into his mouth. Merlin rocked his hips upward, letting out a groan of pleasure as Gwaine pushed himself down.

'Ahh fuck' Merlin grabbed his hips and ground their bodies together, torturously slow and infinitely delicious.

Gwaine undid Merlin belt and then his own, grasping the both of them in one strong hand.

'Harder' Merlin whispered, and Gwaine was more than willing to obey, grunting with every sinful tug, 'Jesus Christ' Merlin threw his hands up, clawing at his own hair as Gwaine persisted.

The young man was pulsing in his hand as they rocked into each other. Sweat beading on his brow, Gwaine went faster, the mounting pleasure reaching critical. He let go of Merlin and focused on himself, staring at the squirming body between his legs as Merlin touched himself. The table began to screech against the stone floor with the turbulence until a pot smashed on to the floor with their climax. Gwaine came over Merlin before falling in top of him in exhaustion.

The door creaked with the guards push, "Is everything …'

'We're fine!' they called out together before collapsing into fits of laughter.

'You're a devil, Merlin.' Gwaine smiled, 'Don't ever change.'


	32. Tame and Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Six (1)

They'd woken up late and Gwaine had to scramble on his clothes to get ready for training. He arrived to find Merlin similarly dishevelled, his hair being ruffled by Arthur insisting he told him the reason for his delay.

"My fault," Gwaine interjected before realising Merlin had gone bright pink, "I was doing an errand for Gaius with him and was less than helpful."

"Well, nothing new there then Gwaine." Arthur quipped, but there was a slight sting in his voice, not quite believing the alibi.

The training went as usual with Arthur showing off and Merlin pretending he wasn't impressed. After an extra half hour of mace work, his punishment for being late himself, Gwaine finally retired to his chambers. He wasn't on knight duties today and intended to spend it alone basking in the scorching rays of the autumn sun. The night before with Merlin had been fun, so fun, but it was what it was. He doubted it would happen again and, if he was honest to himself, he didn’t mind. It was a good way to end their romance and Gwaine’s mind was far too preoccupied with Percy to think of anyone else. He slipped off his armour and began to wash himself down from the basin of cold water. It felt nice to have finally moved on.

Knock knock.

Gwaine's wet face was smushed in a towel, "Come in."

He looked up to see Percy ducking under the door frame, suddenly very aware he was standing there in just his trousers, bare chest glistening with water. Percival opened his mouth but no words came out, and Gwaine couldn't help but let out a shy laugh having rendered the man speechless. Desperately trying to keep his eyes focused on Gwaine's face, Percy leaned forward and laid down a bouquet of Valerian on the table, before rocking back on his feet and awkwardly leaving.

Gwaine was dumbfounded.

He walked forward, picking up the bouquet gently and brushed his fingertips against the delicate flowers.

When had Percival even had the chance to pick these? They'd been up at the crack of dawn for training so...he would have had to have gone out before first light. It was, Gwaine smiled to himself, the most romantic gesture he had ever experienced.

Without a moment's hesitation, Gwaine was rushing down the corridor, 'Percival! Percival!' he shouted. Only when he came to a breathless stop realising he hadn't taken a moment to put in his tunic or boots, 'Do you have duties today? Because if you don't then maybe we could…'

'Yes.'

'...go out for the day?' they beamed at each other.

Percival straightened himself up, 'I'll go saddle the horses and you can go and...um' he gestured towards Gwaines' bare chest and feet.

Gwaine grinned like never before and raced off to get ready.

…

When he got outside, he realised that he'd never actually seen Percival without at least chainmail on, and found him in nothing but a thin tunic, trousers pulled taught across his muscular thighs and riding boots.

'Thought we'd ride east,' Percival called out, 'We'll catch the sunset that way.'

'Sounds good to me!' Gwaine mounted his horse, 'I know a good place.'

As he waited for Percival to be ready, he spied something in the corner of his eye. Turning his horse to face the noise, Gwaine saw Lancelot, Elyan, and Merlin peeking out from a doorway. Subtle as a brick, they all have him a sarcastic thumbs up. Gwaine flipped them the finger before kicking his horse into motion but he could still hear the trio giggling as he got through the castle gates. He knew he was going to get the piss taken out of him the moment he got back, but with one look at Percival, Gwaine decided he really didn't care.

‘So, where are we headed?’

‘You’ll see.’ Gwaine turned back with a smirk, ‘But you’ll have to keep up.’ and with a kick to his horse he sped off, looking behind him with glee to see Percival racing after him.

He had only lived in Camelot a short while, but his times in exile had let him get well acquainted with the surrounding forests. A small pathway up through the oak trees led to a little known meadow Gwaine had spent many a night sleeping in when he was travelling. Not many people went there because it was so overgrown with flowers and berries, only a small patch of grass was left to sit on, but it would be enough for two.

Gwaine pulled his horse to a stop and jumped off, ‘We don’t have to tie the horses up; you don’t get any people around here.’

The two horses began grazing nearby as Gwaine slumped down against a tree with his satchel. Reaching inside, he pulled out two cups and a large bottle of mead for them to share, patting the ground next to him. Percival gingerly took a seat next to him, shuffling closer while being careful not to touch. 

Gwaine handed him a cup of mead, ‘So, Percy. Bringing flowers to my chambers. What’s that about then?’

‘Did you not like them?’ Percival's face was sewn with quiet panic.

Taking a sip, Gwaine moved closer, ‘No I… I love them. Just wondered what I did to deserve it.’

Percy went to speak but instead decided to down the entire cup of mead, reaching across to pour another and downing that too. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, taking a deep breath.

‘Are you alright…’

‘I like you, Gwaine.’ The words burst from his mouth, ‘ I like you a lot and I know you probably don’t feel the same but I…I…’ having lost momentum, Percy let out a defeated sigh.

The breeze brushed against the flowers and soft birdsong drifted in the early morning heat. Gwaine, to his surprise, found his heart racing. He was nervous. For the first-ever time, he was nervous. As he grappled with his feelings, Gwaine didn't realise a solid minute of silence had passed them both by.

Percy was frowning, ‘I’m sorry. I've made it weird. I’ll go.’

Gwaine nearly leapt up grabbing onto Percy’s arm ‘No stay. I… I really like you to Percy.’

They were close. Closer than they’d ever been before. Gwaine’s grip on Percy’s arm moved to hold his face, fingertips caressing stubble and his eyes moved to Percy’s slightly parted lips. They looked soft, infinitely soft. The two men looked at each other, both so afraid of getting something wrong, of scaring the other away. Gwaine was so used to easily making the first move that it nearly shocked him out of his senses when Percival reached over and grabbed him by the waist, lifting Gwaine with ease onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Percival's neck as he was pulled into his body, their forehead resting on each other, breath deep and slow. 

Gwaine kissed him. His lips leaning heavy into Percy’s as the knight enveloped him in his powerful arms. Percival's hands tangled into Gwaine’s hair, pressing tame and tender kisses into his neck. Gwaine sank into bliss.

These moments were not stolen. There was no need to look over his shoulder. The divine rapture of Percival’s kiss was given freely and without the bitter twist of grief. The drink didn’t numb him, there was no veil sarcasm to hide behind and not even the cover of the night. There were just the two of them bathed in sunlight and a sweet ecstasy Gwaine never dared to dream of.


	33. Not That I'm Complaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part six (2)

The sunset cast a lustre of gold over the fallen leaves as Gwaine sat with his back against Percival’s chest.

Percy pressed a kiss on the top of Gwaine’s head, ‘We should head back.’

‘No.’ Gwaine craned his neck to look up at the knight, ‘Let’s never go back. Let’s just stay here.’

‘I mean if you insist.’ Percy laughed and pulled Gwaine into a kiss. 

The whole afternoon had been spent between kissing, drinking, and nearly crying with laughter. Alas, they were both on patrol tomorrow and, if nothing else, not returning until the early hours of the morning would mean months of teasing from Lance and Elyan, let alone the others. 

Gwaine got to his feet and began to walk to his horse, except…, ‘Damn it. The blasted things walked off.’

Getting up, Percival saw that only his horse had stayed close and Gwaine’s had decided it liked freedom too much and left.

‘It’s alright, Gwaine.’

‘But how am I going to get back, now? I can't walk it from here.’

Percy smiled, ‘Well, I know a way… but, you can't hold me responsible for what people will say.’

An hour later, Percival arrived back on his horse through the castle gates, GWaine sat in front of him on their now shared saddle. He was almost half asleep in the warm embrace of Percy’s arms when they reached the stables and Percy helped him down. 

With a glance either way, Percy couldn’t help but gather him up and kiss him again, ‘Come on. I’ll walk you back.’

The court was quiet with only the faint sounds of servants shuffling about doing their chores, and in the empty corridors on the way to his chambers, Gwaine took Percy’s hand into his own and swung their arms in glee. He just couldn't stop smiling. All too quickly, they reached his door.

‘Today was…’ Percy couldn’t find the words.

‘It was the best.’

‘Well, I guess this is goodnight then.’

Gwaine bit his lip. God, he wanted to invite Percy in. But the knight was hesitant and awkward and, Gwaine thought, utterly adorable for being so. There was no rush was there? No, they could take things slow.

‘I guess it is. Good night Percy.’ Gwaine kissed him on the cheek before slipping into his room, sliding down the door on the other side. He had to put a hand over his mouth to stop laughing. It was that kind of laughter the only comes when your happiness has filled up your soul leaving it with nowhere else to go.

After a while, he managed to stop and got up, still beaming, to change into his bedclothes. He sat down on the bed, loose linen shirt, trousers, and barefoot to go to bed, but something wouldn't let him put his head down on the pillow. His thoughts were consumed with Percival, but they were different now. He wasn't thinking about the gentle kisses under the sunset; he was thinking of the glimpses of rippling muscle under the knight's tunic. He thought of the pull of the fabric when Gwaine had sat on his lap, the sweet grind of their bodies together.

‘Fuck it.’ Gwaine got up and went to the door, he threw it open only to find Percival there, red in the face about the knock.

Gwaine grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot before pushing Percy against the wall. The knight grabbed Gwaine and hoisted him into his arms, Gwaine wrapping his legs around the knight's waist. He could feel Percival getting hard as he was carried effortlessly to the bed. Percy laid him down, his kiss hot and heavy before he flung off his tunic. Gwaine ripped off his own and sat up. He began to undo Percy’s belt when he was paused.

‘Fuck. Are you sure Gwaine?’

‘Very sure.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Percival threw his head back as Gwaine undid his trousers.

Gwaine quickly found that it wasn’t just Percy’s muscles that were huge, and with a greedy want, opened his mouth. He could barely take Percival in, having to pull himself down on his cock with hands clutching Percy’s hips. Flicking his eyes up as he sucked, he saw Percy at a loss of what to do, so Gwaine guided his hand to the back of his head, pushing him in. Percival quickly got the idea, and soon was thrusting himself into Gwaine’s mouth.

‘Gwaine. Gwaine, fuck, I’m going to…’

Gwaine pulled away, his hand firmly holding on to Percy, ‘Not yet. Not yet.’

Percival winced with anticipation but rode through, opening his eyes to see Gwaine talking off his own trousers, laying out naked on the bed, his hair sprawled across the sheets like velvet sunlight. Percival seized Gwaine by the hips, dragging him to the edge of the bed. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself wet before pushing the tip of his pulsing cock against Gwaine. Gwaine looked down, his breath ringing in his ears with a sinful impatience. Percy pushed and Gwaine couldn't restrain the growl of hunger. Encouraged by the yearning in Gwaine’s eyes, Percival thrust with a certain and powerful force, heaving their bodies together in a furnace of pleasure. Percival tumbled down to kiss Gwaine, their bodies entangled, lips grazing against one another in turbulent lust.

Percival was deep inside Gwaine, pounding him into sweet submission. It had never felt this damn good.

‘Don’t. Stop.’ Gwaine panted, as Percival arched his hip, adjusting the angle just enough to hit a new maddening euphoria.

Running his hand over Percival's body, slick with sweat, Gwaine was unable to hold off any longer. He reached climax and, falling against the bedsheet in the afterglow, felt the rush of Percy coming inside him.

The pair lay against each other panting before Percival broke out into peals of laughter, ‘You know...when I…’ the man couldn’t catch his breath, ‘When I came back to your chambers, I honestly was just going to ask if you wanted to go down the tavern.’ he rolled back into Gwaines arms and kissed him deeply, ‘Not that I'm complaining.’


	34. A Gentleman Never Tells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Six (3)

Gwaine decided not to open his eyes yet. He burrowed into Percival’s chest instead as the birdsong of dawn drifted in through the window. No servant had come to wake him for patrol and he wanted to languish in bed for as long as he could. Lazily looking up, he saw Percival was half awake.

‘Morning little man’ he grinned, holding Gwaine against him.

‘Mmm,’ Gwaine snuggled in closer, ‘Morning handsome.’

He pressed a kiss onto Percy’s lips and with a joyful shove had Gwaine on his back, pinned underneath him. The covers slipped off over Percival’s muscular body, its contours softly brushed with the dim light of daybreak. The balmy heat between them rising with every kiss Percy pressed into Gwaine’s neck.

Suddenly, the door burst open, ‘Gwaine have you seen…’ Arthur looked up, ‘Percival!’

The two men froze. Arthur didn’t know where to look and tried his best to keep focused on their faces as Percy pulled the covers up hastily.

He cleared his throat, ‘Percival, you need to get ready for patrol this morning, so you if you want to, you know.’

Percival didn’t, ‘Yes sire. Um...Could you turn around? I need to, um…’ the poor knight had gone red in the face with embarrassment, ‘I need to put my trousers on.’

‘Oh god,’ Arthur mouthed to himself before facing away.

Percival got up and quickly put on his trousers, carrying his boots and shirt for a quicker exit. Gwaine, of course, just laughed to himself, ‘See you later, Perce!’ Gwaine propped himself up against the headboard and grabbed an apple, ‘You know, Arthur, there is such a thing as knocking.’

But Arthur didn’t laugh. He didn’t even turn around.

‘Arthur?’  
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ there was a menace in the prince’s voice, the slow burn of anger on his lips.

‘Well, nothing since you came to ruin the party, princess.’

Arthur spun around, ‘How dare you treat Merlin like this! He waited for you and you just…’

‘Whoa hang on! Me and Merlin; we’re done. It ended, Arthur.’ the prince looked dumbfounded at Gwaine’s words, ‘I would never, never, hurt Merlin. I certainly would have never cheated on him. Nor, for that matter, would I just use Percival like that and I resent the implication.’ 

A broody Arthur paced around Gwaine’s chamber, ‘When did it end?’ his voice was a thin whisper.

‘After we saved you in the Perilous Lands.’

‘You didn’t save me, you…’ Arthur rolled his eyes at himself, ‘So, Merlin...and you…’

Gwaine got up without warning and went to look for his trousers, Arthur spinning around to avoid the sight, ‘I’m going to lay it out plain and simple for you Arthur. And, I won’t lie, you aren’t going to like me speaking to you in this way.’ having gotten half-dressed Gwaine took Arthur by the shoulders and pulled him around to face him, ‘You’re a complete idiot. I mean, a real moron at this point. Why do you think it ended between me and Merlin?’ Arthur shrugged, ‘He had feelings for someone else and I decided to step aside. I thought this person knew that, but clearly, he doesn’t. Is this getting through to you at all?’

Arthur swallowed hard, ‘Get ready for patrol...And not a word of this leaves this room.’ and with that Arthur left silently.

For all the Prince’s wisdom, Gwaine still wasn’t sure he’d cracked the case of being head over heels for Merlin. He busied himself getting ready for patrol when a knock came at the door.

Lancelot and Elyan were striding through the doorway before Gwaine could do anything about it.

‘So, Gwaine, guess who we just bumped into?’ Elyan teased.

‘Percival was just getting ready for patrol...Well…’

‘Well…’

‘He was actually trying to get his clothes back on’

‘You know, Lance, I just can’t work out why Percival would be sneaking around the castle half-naked?’

‘Beats me Elyan! It’s strange as well because his chambers are downstairs and he seemed to be coming from, well from this direction actually.’

‘Curious. Curious. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Gwaine?’

Gwaine shrugged on his chainmail with a grin, ‘A gentleman never tells, ladies.’

‘True,’ said Lance, ‘But you’re hardly a gentleman, are you Gwaine?’

Gwaine couldn’t repress the beaming smile on his face. Elyan ran at him, nearly knocking him over in a huge hug, ‘Yes! That’s my boy!’

‘Seriously Gwaine, ‘Lance slapped him on the back, ‘We’re happy for you. But...We are going to want details.’

‘For god sake, no!’

Elyan, ‘Even if I buy the first round after patrol?’

Gwaine laughed, ‘Well, you might have a deal there.’


	35. An Apple Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Six (4)

The months passed by sweeping the frost of winter over the citadel. There was peace in the land and, aside from training and patrols, the duties of the knights were slim. While they were quiet about their relationship, everyone in the castle knew something was going on between Percival and Gwaine, especially since it had become common practice for the knights to swap patrols so the two of them had the same days off together. It wasn’t something they’d asked for, but they were infinitely grateful for the times they could ride out into the meadow. But with the snow thick and crisp underfoot, such privacy was hard to come by. As much as Gwaine didn’t care about people knowing (in fact, given the chance he would have shouted it from the rooftops every morning), he knew Percival was a reserved man in public. Despite growing up a farmhand, the knight was distinctly noble in his pursuits. Every morning there were flowers, with every goodbye a kiss to Gwaine’s hand. Of course, such courting was undone by spending nearly every night in the same bed, but noble courting was indeed what it was. 

That cold winters day, however, Percival was more reserved than ever, almost skittish, when Gwaine arrived at his chamber. Thinking little of it, Gwaine went to start a fire when Percival stopped him.

‘There’s somewhere we should go.’

Gwaine slid his arms around his waist, ‘But it’s freezing Perce. Can’t we just stay inside by the fire? I’ll make it worth your while.’ he winked, rocking on to his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

‘Later, I promise, but this is important.’ 

Gwaine cocked his head at his partner, unsure as to where his furrowed brow had come from, ‘Alright. Whatever you say. But I am going to make you come to the tavern this evening.’ Gwaine shrugged on his cloak and went for the door, ‘You coming or…?’

Percival’s eyes went wide, ‘I’ll be two minutes. I...I’ll meet you at the stables.’

Gwaine left but, curious by nature, couldn’t resist peaking back through the door. Percy retrieved something out of the bottom cabinet, wrapped in a piece of velvet and tied with twine, before concealing it in his satchel. What was he planning? Gwaine grinned to himself as he strolled away; he hoped it was something dirty.

…

It had become a familiar sight to the citizens of the lower town to see Percival and Gwaine sharing a horse if nothing else from their odd trips to the tavern where Gwaine would slur folk songs at the top of his lungs as Percy tried to keep the horse moving in one steady direction. They rode through the town with little notice, and slipped into the chilly forest, climbing east through the bare trees. Percival stopped the horse just shy of the meadow where they’d shared their first kiss all those months ago, helping Gwaine down. Taking his hand delicately, Percival couldn’t look at him as he led Gwaine to the trees.

‘Bit cold for a picnic, Perce.’ Gwaine joked, but his laugh was half-hearted, beginning to think Percival’s mysterious behaviour was a bad omen. Things had been going so well, surely they were fine? Then again, ending their relationship right where it began made sense if it wasn’t a little bit dramatic. Gwaine felt palpations shudder through his body. He didn’t want this to end. Truth be told, he never wanted it to. Steeling himself, he took Percival by the shoulder, forcing him to turn around just as they took shelter from the snow, ‘Percy. What’s wrong? This is getting really weird. Are we...are we okay?’

Percy let out an affectionate sigh, ‘We are fine, and you are perfect.’

‘Then why do you look so nervous? Perce, what’s wrong?’

He took a deep breath and retrieved the velvet parcel Gwaine has spied in his chambers. Undoing the twine with nimble fingers, Percival stared intently at the contents, ‘I’ve been a knight for a long while now and, even though it’s been hard to get used to, I finally feel like I belong. As though I was meant to be a knight, here in Camelot, so I had a sigil made.’ he carefully took out a round metal pin, forged to show an apple tree bearing fruit with flowers springing from the ground. It was truly a beautiful piece of work and Percival’s hand shook as he tried to put it on.

‘Here, let me.’ Gwaine pinned it to Percy’s cloak, ‘It suits you.’

Percival was breathing hard, his face flushed as he continued to clutch the scrap of velvet, ‘And I… I had… Oh, hang on, I think I’m going to fall over.’ he steadied himself against the tree, steeled himself and opened the fabric, ‘I had two made.’

It took Gwaine a few moments. He stared down at the pin, it’s craftsmanship exquisite as the metal twinkle in the snow-capped sun. He looked up to Percival, deep in his eyes as blue as ice melting into spring.

With a tremor in his breath, Percival got to one knee, taking Gwaine’s hand in his own. He pressed the sigil into his palm, closing Gwaine’s fingers over the top, ‘If you’ll have me.’

Gwaine burst out laughing, ' If I'll have you? If I'll… Percy, my god!' Gwaine took the sigil and adorned it on his cloak, 'You've had me since day one.'

'So, yes?' Percival rushed to his feet, 'Is that a yes?'

'Of course, it's a bloody yes! I love you, Percival, I…' the tears came quickly then, 'I think I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you.'

Percy swept Gwaine into his arms. He smiled as he kissed him, and the birds, who should've been far away by now, sung through the winter air to concur: Gwaine, at long last, had found true love.

…

As they approached the gates of the citadel, Gwaine found bunting if every colour hung from even the highest turrets. A fan fair of people out waving the kerchiefs as the pair rode past, the knights all standing together with the prince, beaming smiles at the pair.

'For god's sake tell me he said yes!' Lancelot called out.

Percival jumped down from the horse and swept Gwaine into his arms like a princess, ‘He did!’

The crowd cheered and the now betrothed knights kissed. Lancelot came over, hugging Percival tight, ‘I’m so happy for you old friend. Truly. You deserve all the happiness the world can bring.’

‘Are you crying, Lance? Didn’t take you for a sap!’ Gwaine quipped.

‘Says the man who cried the whole way home.’ Percival said to find Gwaine’s elbow in his side.

‘Right men!’ called out Elyan, ‘Tavern anyone?’

The band of knights began the short walk to the pub, Lancelot talking deeply with Percival with their signature brotherly affection. Gwaine took the moment in, watching his fiance walk across the winter evening. The air was fresh and his heart was still with contentment. 

‘Congratulations.’ a voice came from behind him.

Gwaine turned to see Merlin stood in the snow, holding his thin jacket around him, a small smile playing across his face.

‘Really Gwaine. You got yourself a good one there. I’m so happy for you.’

For whatever reason, Merlin’s words got to him more than anyone else's, ‘Thank you.’

The two of them stared at each other, the revelry having dissipated into silence as the others made their way inside.

‘I always thought it would be you. You know that right?’ the words came out before Gwaine had thought them through. What the hell did he admit that for?

Merlin came closer, inspecting the sigil on Gwaine’s cloak, ‘Me too. In another life, perhaps we did.’ Merlin swallowed his feelings, his eyes glistening wet, ‘The sigil is handsome on you. Percival did well with the design.’

‘He designed it himself?’

Merlin let out a chuckle, ‘And Gwen even went back into her father's old forge to make them. He’s been planning this for months, Gwaine. You’re a very lucky man.’ Merlin realised he’d been holding the pin for too long and let go suddenly, ‘I should go back, lots of work to do.’

‘Merlin. Wait.’ The young man turned around, as fragile as a leaf but still somehow smiling, ‘You know… You do know…’

Silent as the grave Merlin took Gwaine’s face in his hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, ‘I do Gwaine. I’ll always love you too, friend. Now, don’t keep your fiance waiting. Free ale all night from what I’ve heard.’

And with that, Merlin left Gwaine standing in the snow. 

‘Gwaine?’ Percival rushed out into the cold, his arms bare, ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah. Merlin was just telling me you designed the sigil yourself. Didn’t know my fiance was a man of so many talents.’

Percy hugged him from behind, kissing his neck, ‘I’ll show you even more talent tonight.’

‘Man, you’re a lightweight Perce!’ Gwaine playfully batted him away, holding his hand as they made their way to the tavern, ‘So, tell me then, how did you decide on the sigil?’

‘Honestly? It was just because you like apples so much.’

Gwaine leaned into Percival. This really was perfection.


	36. Shaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (1)

‘That’s the last of it!’

‘We’ve...we’ve only moved one trunk, Gwaine?’ Percival questioned sitting down the chest in their now shared quarters.

‘Yeah, that’s it.’ Gwaine smiled, quickly unpacking his three shirts, two pairs of trousers, and vase, ‘It’s more than what I came to Camelot with. The vase is new.’

‘Right that decides it,’ Percy said, bundling Gwaine up into his arms, ‘I need to shower you with gifts.’

Gwaine laughed into their kiss, ‘I’ve got you, Perce; that’s all I want.’

Gathering Gwaine up, Percival began walking him towards the bed, ‘Mmm, so do you want some now? Got a little while before the feast, you know?’

Percy laid down Gwaine on the four-poster bed, his hands sliding into Gwaine soft hair, the gentle pressure of their bodies lying together warm and intoxicating.

‘Percival? Gwaine?’ there was a knock at the door, ‘Are you...decent?’

‘Sadly yes!’ Gwaine called, pushing Percival off with a remorseful look, ‘Leon. All okay?’

Leon stood in the doorway, his face twisted with worry, ‘I wanted you to know as soon as possible. On patrol, we...we found Morgana.’

Gwaine’s blood ran cold, ‘She’s alive?’

He tried to form the words, but the tremor of his jaw wouldn’t let him, leaving the brave knight Leon reduced to a small, terrified nod.

Percival got up first, taking Leon by the shoulders and stooping to look him in the eyes, ‘Are you okay? Elyan?’

‘J...Just shaken. Thank you, Percival.’ he took a deep breath, ‘By the looks of things, she’s heading to the Isle of the Blessed.’ 

Gwaine didn’t know much of magic or the old religion, other than the little things he’d gleaned from Merlin, but even he knew that couldn’t be good. Everyone grew up with the stories of that cursed place, shuddered at the nightmarish images it conjured in their childhood dreams. Deep inside his chest, something fell cold, like the shatter of glass on stone, suspended in the bitter silence of winter. 

‘We don’t know what she’s planning, but patrols are being doubled after the feast, and guards are being increased. So, be ready. We don’t know when she’ll strike.’

Gwaine went to get up to find his legs failed him and winced as he fell back down on the bed, ‘Will she make a play for Camelot again? She failed before, and that was with an army.’

‘She’s a high priestess, ‘Percival reasoned, eyes to the floor, ‘Where I grew up, they were revered as deities incarnate.’ he swallowed. Hard. ‘She’s doesn’t _need_ an army.’

Leon excused himself without another word. Shutting the door with a soft click, Percy met Gwaine's eyes. Even from the other end of the room, he could see them quiver with tears.

‘Gwaine.’

With all the strength he could muster, Gwaine pulled himself up from the bed and flung himself into Percival's arms. He held him, as tight as he could, as long as he could, head buried into his chest, ‘Not yet. Not yet.’ his voice was little more than a murmur.

Percy hugged him back, ‘What is it? Gwaine?’

‘It was all going so well. What if we have to go into battle? I...I can’t lose you. I won’t.’

‘Of course, you won’t, little man. She might not even attack. And if she does, we’ll take care of each other. Now, come on, I can’t escort my fiance to the feast upset. ‘ he brushed a tear from Gwaine’s cheek, ‘Oh, sod it, I may as well give it to you now.’

Gwaine rubbed eyes dry and Percival began rummaging through his wardrobe, ‘Give me what?’

Turning around, Percival held up a beautifully embroidered tunic. The fabric, a plush plum purple, was adorned with a simple but elegant gold thread, looping like vines with small roses flecked in red thread. 

‘I saw it, well one like it, at the market and I thought it would suit you.’

Gwaine pulled his shirt over his head, throwing the cheap garment to the floor, and put on the present, ‘It’s beautiful. It’s so soft.’

Percy slid his hands over the fabric on Gwaine’s waist, ‘Smooth as silk, ‘ he whispered, leaning in to kiss his neck. His hands glided over the fabric, smoothing over the contours of Gwaine’s body with ease, ‘Feeling better.’

‘Starting to’ Gwaine let his head fall back, the kisses on his neck becoming warm and deep, every touch sending hot flashes through his body.

'Come on, we best get down to the feast.'

'How dare you kiss me like that and then make us go in public.' Gwaine laughed.

'Guess you'll just have to suffer through the anticipation all evening, then.' Percival winked, pulling in his own formalwear.

He dropped his jaw, 'Never knew you could be so cruel, Percival.'

Percy's eyes flicked down to below Gwaine's waist, 'Never knew you liked it so much.'


	37. Samhaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (2)

The feast of Samhaine’s Eve came to an abrupt halt when Merlin crashed down to the floor. His serving jug clattered in the silence as all the knights rushed to his shivering body. The boy convulsed, ice-cold to the touch, as Gwaine helped wrestle him into Lancelot's arms, carrying him to Gaius’s chambers.

Gwaine paced outside Merlin’s bedroom, Gauis insisting he needed space. After what felt like an eternity, Lancelot finally emerged, taking Gwaine’s arm lightly, ‘We need to let him rest.’

‘How is he? What’s wrong, what’s…’

‘Gwaine. He’ll be okay. Gaius can handle it.’ but something was clouding over Lance’s eyes; something he wasn’t saying.

It was a risk, but Lance had been Merlin’s friend since before Gwaine had, and no one matched him for loyalty. Gwaine took a breath and leaned in, ‘I _know_ Lance.’

To his surprise, Lancelot squared up to Gwaine, a tight grip on the hilt of his sword, ‘If you are threatening Merlin’s safety…’

‘Lance. I would never hurt him. We used to...he was my first love. I’ll take his secret to the grave. Please, is there anything I can do? I’m worried.’

‘Merlin fell right when the veils between the worlds were at their thinnest. With Morgana having been spotted travelling towards the isle of the blessed, and Merlin being… It can’t be a coincidence.’

And he was right. By the time morning arrived, the first report came in from Howden. The frightened slip of a girl had ridden all night to tell the prince of the ghostly figures diving through the night sky, freezing the life out of its victims.

Gwaine had been right. There was a battle coming.

As Arthur briefed the knights on how the Dorocha might be vanquished, Gwaine didn’t listen. In fact, all he heard was the faint memory of birdsong and breeze from the meadow as he drank in the sight of Percival. 

‘Get ready to ride, men; we leave in one hour. You’re dismissed.’

Gwaine didn’t move until he felt Percival take him by the arm, barely registering the journey up through the castle to their quarters. Percy set him down on the bed and gathered their things. He was a soft soul, truth be told, but even Percival didn’t know how to respond to a Gwaine that couldn’t speak; it was a relief when the whisper came from the other end of the room.

‘Last time I went to battle…’ Gwaine began, his eyes to the floor, ‘Last time, I didn’t want to survive it.’

Percival dropped everything and rushed to his feet, kneeling as he cradled Gwaine in his arms.

‘I _want_ to live now, Percy. So very much.’ It was only when Gwaine looked up, Percy realised he wasn’t crying, but gently smiling, ‘I want our life together.’

‘Don’t you make me cry, little man.’ Pervial said, stroking his face bashfully.

With one sweet kiss, Gwaine got to his feet, ‘Right. We should go.’ but when he got the door, he turned on his heel, that familiar, carefree grin returning, ‘How uncomfortable do you reckon we can make Arthur on this trip?’ 

‘And there’s the exhibitionist I fell in love with.’


	38. The Phantoms of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (3)

The small band of knights arrived at the village of Howden by nightfall. The homes and stables lay deathly silent, still as the grave as Percival dismounted his horse. He crept forward, leaves and twigs cracking underfoot as he ducked inside the first home. A moment later the knight came running out, flinging out a hand to steady himself on the nearby trees. Gwaine jumped down to see his fiance retching, breathless.

‘Percy? What’s wrong?’

Percy held back the heaves of his chest, ‘They’re all…Even...’ but before he could finish, the knight dashed to throw up where the others could not see him.

Gwaine gingerly walked to the house and looked in. Three bodies lay there in the darkness, their face drained of all colour, eyes lifeless as glass. In the centre, small and innocent was a child. The parents had been frozen as they protected them, their arms now in an eternal embrace of the babe they could not save. He understood.

Before Camelot, Percival had a family. He took care of his parents, his nieces and nephews, there was even mention of another man. But one day, he returned from a nearby market to find his village washed in blood in the wake of Cenred’s army. Not even the children were spared… He’d only spoken of it once, but Gwaine had never forgotten a single detail. He rejoined the knights, Percival appearing with a short nod; he was okay. Gwaine would wait for some privacy before hugging him.

A sudden howl raced through the air.

‘Did you see that?’ Arthur whispered, eyes darting about him.

Gwaine sighed, ‘We are literally chasing shadows.’

‘Come on.’ the prince steeled himself, ‘We need to find survivors. Everyone split up.’

Each knight stalked the town in different directions, leaving Gwaine to walk through the centre, peering into every house. He was glad this wasn’t Percival’s job; there were so many children. In the distance, Gwaine spied a faint globe of light in Merlin’s hands before it fizzled out. A wail flew through the air, the wisp of the Dorocha swooping through the air with it’s shrieking. He quickened his pace to see the light refuse to start again, Merlin’s magic faltering. Breaking into a sprint Gwaine ran with furious speed, the screaming phantom of death diving towards Merlin. He wasn’t going to make it. Everything went black. Gwaine shot forward. All he could see was Merlin, small, powerless, the demon screeching through the night. He ran faster. Death gained on the boy. 

A flash of fire swept over Gwaine’s vision. The phantom was slung into the night by Lance’s torch. Merlin was safe. He jogged up to them, ‘Merlin, what happened?’

The boy steadied himself against Lancelot, ‘My magic...I couldn’t use it. It’s useless.’

Gwaine had never seen the boy look so scared, but there was no time to comfort him as Elyan and Arthur arrived.

‘There’s something out there, sire. It fled at the fire but I think it will be back.’

The Prince nodded, ‘Right, we need to get out of here. Get to the horses.’

Gwaine looked around him. Merlin, Lancelot, Elyan, Arthur, Leon…, ‘Where’s Percival?’

The knights turned around as one, all as clueless as the others.

‘Where’s Percival!’ Gwaine shouted, his eyes pleading.

He launched into a sprint, his mind crazed with cursed images. The wind howled. Above him, a cloud of the Dorocha hurled down upon the night like a hurricane.

‘PERCIVAL!’

No. No, I’m not losing you, I’m just not, Gwaine thought as he ran deeper into the village. The ink-black of the sky seemed to swell once more as the screaming came closer; like a thousand screeching violins.

Footsteps.

Running.

Gwaine saw him. He had no torch but he was running. 

Where the hell is the torch, Gwaine shouted in his head. Then he saw the three small children clinging to Percy’s waist.

But the Dorocha closed in.

Gwaine sped towards his love, towards the survivors. He thrust his torch into the sky as the Dorocha dived in a harrowing wail. Behind him, Percival flinched, spinning around to use his body as a shield to the children who cowered against him. The fire warned off the creatures for long enough to allow Percival to dash to the horses. Leon lifted the children on to horses of the knights, who sped into the darkness. Gwaine wielded the torch as the Dorocha advanced their assault. 

The flame flickered. Darkness fell like lead.

The phantoms of death came for Gwaine.

But so did Percival.

The pair were thrown to the floor in a howl of rage. Gwaine opened his eyes with a slow agony. 

Percival wasn’t moving.

‘P...Percy?’ Gwaine couldn’t breathe, ‘Come on, farm boy. Wake up.’

Leon’s horse sped towards them, torch in hand casting a silvery glow over Percival’s still body.

‘Gwaine. Is he…?’ Leon's voice cracked, ‘Please no. God no.’ he jumped off his horse and plunged the torch into the ground, both arms around Gwaine as he shook.

Gwaine couldn’t speak. He just muttered prayers to gods he didn’t believe in, shivering, crying, the sound echoing through the hollowed-out shell of his body. Leon held him as best he could, but the crying was becoming convulsions. He buried his face in Leon’s chest to soften the scream perched on his tongue. 

Suddenly, Leon’s grip loosened, his breath released.

Gwaine spun around.

Looking up under hooded eyes, Percival smiled through blue lips, 'Shhh. Don't cry. I...I'm…' but his voice was lost to the shivering.

Removing both their cloaks, Leon and Gwaine wrapped Percival up, both noticing the strange blue slash across his arm as they helped him onto the horse. The band of brother formed a protective circle as they rode, making sure all the torchlight was focused on Percival and the children until they reached the next village that glimmered in the firelight.

All the villagers had heard of the Dorocha and gathered for safety in a barn, every candle and torch they could find burning bright inside and out like a beacon. Lancelot and Leon helped lay Percival down so Merlin could examine him; Elyan holding Gwaine upright, still shaken by the close brush with death.

"We should patrol the perimeter," Arthur announced, "You three stay with Percival, we'll take first watch." Arthur leaned into Gwaine's ear as he went to depart, "You just stay with Percival. He's in good hands."

Gwaine crouched down beside Lancelot, trying to keep his breath steady.

'Is he going to be okay, Merlin?' Lance asked, sensing Gwaine was too weak to speak just then.

' I believe so but...I need to use magic.'

'I'll cover for you.' Lance got up and clapped his hands together, 'Everyone, can you gather around for a moment…' and he launched into a speech of how to keep them safe and what the knights would do to help, allowing all eyes to be diverted from Merlin's treatment.

Merlin bowed his head in a low whisper, 'The cold is spreading within him. I'm going to help but he will be in pain. Be strong Gwaine. He'll need you.'

Gwaine nodded as Merlin began to cast his spell. His hands waved steadily over Percival's wound, words muttered in an indistinct language as his eye glowed their familiar gold. Slowly, the blue was replaced by a rushing of pink, quickly followed by a trickle of blood. Percival coughed, his body beginning to contort with the pain as he reached for Gwaine's hand. He squeezed hard. Merlin reached into the medicine bag for a needle and thread, but the blood flowed too thick and fast. Biting his lip, Merlin guided the thread through the wound with his eyes, fastening together the broken flesh as quickly as possible. He rubbed his hands together, conjuring a steaming heat and pressed against the blood. With a cry of pain, it was cauterized, and Percival woke, panting in Gwaine's arms.

Gwaine reached out a hand to Merlin's shoulder, but words still failed. It didn't matter, for Merlin knew of Gwaine's gratitude from the tears that pooled in the dimples of his smile.


	39. About Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (4)

He didn’t want to leave his side, but Lancelot had nearly lost his best friend; his grief deserved privacy just as much as Gwaine’s. With a kiss to Percival’s forehead, Gwaine made his way out into the night. He propped himself up outside the barn with a sigh, the stars twinkling just a little bit brighter than usual.

‘I know you’re there,’ Gwaine said, not turning, ‘Sit. It’s better than staring.’

A shoulder brushed against his own.

‘I can’t thank you enough, Merlin. I...I thought I’d lost him for a moment there.’

‘What would you have done? If you couldn’t save him?’

‘You know the answer, Merlin. It’s the same as what you would do if that Prince of yours died.

‘Don’t.’ the words barely made it past Merlin’s lips before he started sobbing into his hands.

Out in the forest, Gwaine could see the torch lights of the other knights trying to locate the sound. He grabbed Merlin by the scruff of his collar and pulled him around the back.

‘Hey, hey, what’s wrong?’ Merlin didn’t stop wailing, leaving Gwaine with no choice but to shake him sternly by the shoulders, ‘Merlin. Calm down. Talk to me.’

The young man sniffed into his sleeve, his breathing shaking but starting to steady, ‘Gaius told me. H...he told me the Dorocha are summoned by a tear in the veil between worlds. To close it…’

Gwaine shook his head, ‘I know, Merlin. We’re going to the isle of the blessed and we will defeat those creatures.’

‘The veil can only be repaired by a blood sacrifice.’

Silence fell sharply into Gwaine, ‘Arthur?’

‘He thinks I don’t know, but I know he’d do whatever it takes to spare the people of Camelot. Even if that meant… _that_.’

Gwaine didn’ speak for a while. He paced. He thought.   
How many words would he have wished he’d said? How many moments would they have lost together if he hadn’t run down that corridor in the spur of the moment? How many nights would he have laid there, cold and alone in his grief, if Percival died tonight and he’d never got the courage to tell him how he felt?

‘We won’t let that happen. But I’ll tell you now Merlin, we might not be able to stop him. So, and you’ll hate me for this, but it’s now or never, old friend.’ before Merlin could respond Gwaine waved a torch above his head, ‘Elyan! Leon!’ Gwaine turned to see Merlin’s eye in a panic, ‘You can hate me now, and thank me later.’ He shoved the man in the direction of a lone Arthur standing in the woodland, ‘Elyan, Leon, thank god you’re here, come quickly!’

The trio raced around the back of the barn.

‘Gwaine what is it?’

‘Nothing. Just...Needed to get Merlin and Arthur alone for a minute.

‘Finally!’

Gwaine and Elyan turned to Leon, whose head was no in his hands, beaming out a smile.

‘Leon,’ Elyan began, ‘Are you…’

‘You have no, no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. Those two have been intolerable.’ Leon laughed to himself, almost frenzied, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t speak of the Prince that way. Or of Merlin, he’s a dear friend, but...Thank you Gwaine, my god, finally, it’s…’

‘Shh!’ Elyan whispered, a finger to Leon’s lips as he pointed to the sight. 

Silhouetted between the stars and the torchlight, two figures shook. A hand reached out, hesitant, to be met with cautious entwining fingers. The torchlight fell to the floor in favour of a long-awaited embrace. Leon had been right. Finally. _Finally._ Merlin had the happiness he deserved.

There was a tap on Gwaine’s shoulder, ‘He asked for you.’ Lancelot said before catching the same sight in the corner of his eye, ‘Wait. Are they… Have they…’

Leon grinned, ‘Yep.’

Lancelot nearly punched the air, ‘About time! Yes, Merlin! Oh, thank god we don't have to endure the flirting anymore.’

Gwaine smirked to himself as he strolled back into the barn. Percy was sat up sipping on a steaming cup of tea. The villagers were kind enough to lend him some blankets. He flopped down onto the floor by his side, slipping underneath the blankets. Percy stooped his head to rest on Gwaine’s shoulder, breathing in the slow comfortable warmth.

‘Hey,’ Gwaine whispered, ‘You’ll never guess?’ Percy looked up, ‘Merlin and Arthur. Right now.’

‘In the middle of the forest? Won’t everyone hear them? They must be pent up as hell. I know I would be. Christ, we did it yesterday and I’m already raring to…’

‘Percy. I meant they kissed. They’re not...Wait, were you about to say you’re raring to go again? You nearly just died?’

Percy whispered into Gwaine’s neck, ‘And doesn’t that just make you hunger to feel alive?’


	40. Their Reasons for Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (5)

Most of the townspeople were asleep with the rest of the knights on guard outside when Percival leaned in. He’d been placed in the corner once he could sit upright, a few hay bales stacked to his side to offer privacy as he recovered. Underneath the blankets, no one could see his hand slide across Gwaine’s thigh, fingers hooking under the lip of his trousers.

‘Ow.’ 

‘Percy,’ Gwaine whispered, ‘You’re still healing. Stop it.’

He smirked, ‘I don’t want to stop it.’ he reached forward again, ‘Ow!’

A few villagers stirred in their sleep as Gwaine rolled his eyes, ‘You are insatiable.’

‘Never heard you complain before, little man.’

‘You really can’t call me that anymore, you know.’

Percy winked, ‘It’s ironic.’ with a sigh, he leant back against the barn walls, ‘I guess you’re right. Probably shouldn’t.’

‘Correction: _You_ shouldn’t.’ he turned to his side and gently pulled at the fastenings on Percival’s trousers, ‘But I can.’

Gwaine’s hand glided smoothly beneath Percival’s clothes, finding him hard and pulsing. Percival let out a soft moan at the sight of Gwaine licking his lips, glazed and wet, and disappearing under the blankets. With a sudden intake of breath, Percival brought a fist to his mouth to stop his moans as his cock bathed in the feverish slick of Gwaine’s mouth. He lurched his hips up, the faint sting of his wound worth the muffled gag under the covers, feeling Gwaine’s smile against him before he was taken deeper. Percival held his breath, barely able to control himself as he shoved Gwaine’s head down, starting to pulse as he came closer. Needing no encouragement, Gwaine jerked his mouth up and down in fast, messy strokes. Percival’s breathing was turning to convulsions, the pleasure building intolerably.

‘Percival!’ Lancelot called as he entered the barn.

Gwaine slowed down, torturously slow, his whole body concealed under the thick blankets.

‘Where’s Gwaine, Arthur wants a word?’

‘He, um, he just popped out, I think he’s round the back of the barn.’ Gwaine hadn’t stopped sucking, making Percvials legs shake, ‘You should try there, now.’

‘Okay.’ Lancelot paused, ‘Are you okay Percival?’

‘It’s just the pain. It comes in waves. I’m fine.’

‘I’ll get Merlin, he might have some…’

‘No. It’s fine. Let him be.’

Lancelot shrugged, ‘Well...okay then…’

After what seemed like a lifetime, Lance left the barn and Percival grabbed a fistful of Gwaine’s hair, jerking him up and down with passionate force. He groaned, guttural and low, as he came in Gwaine’s mouth. A few moments later, Gwaine emerged looking pleased with himself. He pulled one of the hay bales over, Laying his head down and softly bringing Percival to lie on his chest, panting.

‘You, my love, ‘Gwaine whispered with a kiss to Percy’s neck, ‘really do bring out the worst in me.’ 

Percy hugged Gwaine close, a smile playing on his lips, ‘I love you, little man.’

‘I…’ the words caught in his throat, ‘I love you too, farm boy.’

Percy looked up at his fiance, his eyes glistening in happiness, ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how you can do something _that dirty_ and then switch back to being adorable moments later.’

With a chuckle Gwaine pulled him closer, letting the man fall into a peaceful, contented sleep. His eyelids felt heavy, but Gwaine fought to stay awake, to keep gazing down at the man he loved, drinking in every beautiful moment they had together. Gwaine felt his heart finally rest, knowing his reason for living lay safe in his arms once more.

‘There you are!’

Gwaine turned his head in the vague direction of the voice.

‘Percival said you were outside, I couldn’t see you any… Oh. Oh, _right_. You were here weren’t you?’ Lance raised his eyebrow.

‘I might have been.’ Gwaine scrunched his face in mild embarrassment, ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I hate to drag you away but Arthur said he needs you.’

Gwaine slipped away from Percy with reluctance, the knight sleeping soundly as Gwaine tucked him in, ‘What does the Princess want, anyway. Thought he’d be busy with Merlin.’

Outside in the cold of the night, Lance pointed Gwaine in the direction of a small fire out in the woods and began to make his way over. Arthur was sat against a tree, his hands delicately soothed Merlin’s hair as the young boy slept. He waited a moment before making himself known; he’d never seen Arthur look so utterly vulnerable. The prince gazed down on Merlin, every touch quivering hesitant before the gentlest of strokes, light fingertips brushing against Merlin’s face.

‘You wanted to talk to…’

‘Shh.’ Arthur didn’t look up, ‘He’s asleep.’

Gwaine smiled as he sat down opposite, huddling against the fire.

Arthur finally pulled his gaze away, ‘I’m sorry to take you away from Percival, I just...I need help, Gwaine. I take it you know what I planned to do to seal the veil.’

‘Merlin told me.’ he gave a solemn nod.

‘There is no other way and… I was fine with it. And then…’ he looked back down at Merlin, ‘Well, then he just had to go and give me a reason to live, didn’t he.’ the prince looked up at the stars, trying to keep the tears from falling, ‘I need to know how you did it, Gwaine. How did you leave him? Because I don’t know how I can now, now that I... ‘ he caught his breath, meeting Gwaine’s eyes, ‘Now that I know Merlin feels the same.’

Gwaine had to wipe away the beginning of his own tears then, ‘It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. The difference is, when I left, it was because I knew he loved you. I loved Merlin more than my own life but, even a blind man could see you’re made for each other; I wasn’t going to stand in the way of his happiness. If you do this Arthur, no better man is waiting for Merlin. There’s no one who he loves more. So, I’m telling you, not as a knight but as your friend, you _cannot_ sacrifice yourself. We will find another way because I’ll tell you now, princess, ‘Gwaine tried to crack a smile through the sobs that perched behind his eyes, ‘If you go and die now and leave Merlin all alone in this world, I’ll reach through that veil myself just slap some sense into you.’

The two men laughed in spite of themselves, their tears glistening the fire and Merlin, deep in a night of dreamless sleep, oblivious to the loved showered over him.


	41. You Have Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (6)

With Percival close to a full recovery, the knights had managed to finish the next leg of their journey. In one night, they would be at the Isle of the Blessed, but for one more evening at least, they could be. 

The fire roared against the night with torches standing guard against the Dorocha in a circle behind them. To an onlooker, this scene was peaceful. Gwaine covered Percy with his cloak as Arthur, still nervous and unsure, held Merlin's had in the firelight. Elyan poured out another goblet of mead for Lance and Leon, the three of them clinking the cup before drinking. But the silence, that deafening silence, spoke volumes of the solemnity of their mission. Someone was going to die.

Breaking the silence, Elyan got to his feet, downing the mead before he spoke, 'I've made a decision.' the knights all looked up in question, 'If the tear in the veil requires a blood sacrifice, then it shall be me.'

His word hung in the air like ice.

'No, Elyan. Think of Gwen."

Elyan gave a sombre smile, 'I am.'

Then, Lancelot got to his feet, 'It should be me. I won't let you do this.'

'Now who isn't thinking of Gwen?' Elyan patted Lance on the shoulder knowingly. 

It was the first time anyone realised Elyan knew, but by the look in his eyes, they could tell he approved. Percival knew the most of their courtship, having been Lance's friend for so long and relayed the ways he wooed her to Gwaine (who, of course, relayed it to everyone else). Lance was nothing if not honourable, and no better match could there be to the fair hearted Gweniever. Elyan took Lance by the shoulders, 'I'm sure one day I may call you my brother, Lancelot, and I shan't let you die before that day.' he turned to the band of knights, 'I shan't let any of you.'

'You're all idiots.' Leon muttered, 'Sit down.' he poked at the fire with his stick, distracting himself with the flames, 'Elyan and Lance; you have Gwen to consider. Gwaine, I can see your itching for a fight but no one is going to let you die and leave your fiance. Same goes for you Percival; if you throw yourself into the veil, Gwaine is going to be insufferable and we can't be having that. As for you, Arthur, I know you believe it is your duty as prince to sacrifice yourself for your kingdom but I'm not about to let all those years of me suffering through you and Merlin dancing around the facts go to waste. Oh, and Merlin, before you get on your high horse claiming you're only a servant again, you damn well know you're more than that to all of us, and I won't see a friend die.' he paused, a strange lack of grief in his eyes, 'Who do I have? My family has long since died, no lover is waiting for me. All I have is my duty as a knight.'

Gwaine sat up. No one in the group could find any words for a rebuttal, or indeed fathom just how much Leon cared for them all. From behind him, Percival leaned over, coughing softly through his pain, 'You have us, Leon.'

He smiled at that, 'I do. But if even one of you dies, I shan't even have that. So, there won't be another word about it. I love you all, and I'll die for that.'


	42. I know, and it's okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (7)

Gwaine awoke that night to hear a whispering in the trees. As warm as Percy's arms wrapped around him were, he gently wrestled free, craning his neck to the distressed noise. In the darkness, he could see faint figures concealed in the foliage, and he crept closer, fearing bandits were on their trail.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realised it was Merlin and Arthur. He shouldn't have listened, but he did, he needed to know what was planned.

'It's what I have to…'

'No. No, it isn't, Arthur.'

'What do you want me to do Merlin? Let Leon die…'

'Of course not.'

'Because I have known Leon since I was a child and I know he was not saying that bashfully. He never breaks his word, and if I don't do this, he will. I'm sorry, Merlin. I have to.'

'You don't have to apologise, Arthur.'

'Yes I do.' the prince rubbed his eyes in frustration, 'How many times did I hold my tongue when I wanted to tell you I loved you? How many godforsaken nights did I lie awake wishing you were there? If I'd have just...gotten over myself, then we could've had a life to…'

'We still can! We'll find a way.'

The shadows came closer, fingers entwined, as Arthur rested his forehead on Merlin's forehead, 'There is no other way. I've thought of every option, and this is it.'

Gwaine expected to hear crying, but it seemed Merlin was all out of tears, resigned to his grief.

'You know,' Arthur's voice light and warm, 'I always imagined how it would look; our wedding.' he laughed at Merlin's gasp, 'How handsome you would look at the altar when…'

'Hey, I always look handsome.'

'Well, that is true.' Arthur pulled Merlin's hands to his chest, 'The point being, Merlin, is that, as awful as this is, at least I get to spend the rest of my life with you. Even if it's not as your husband.'

'I wish it was.'

Gwaine suddenly got to his feet, grabbing a torch and clearing his throat, 'Right, everyone up!'

The knights stirred but didn't move, printing Gwaine to go around kicking them all in the shins until they were finally roused, all except Percy, of course.

'What the hell, Gwaine?' Elyan moaned, brushing the sleep from his eyes, 'What’s going on.'

'Well, I didn't think you'd want to miss it.'

'Miss what?' 

Gwaine turned to the pair hiding in the shadows, 'The wedding, of course.' he marched into the trees and grabbed Merlin by the scruff of his collar to stand, brushing the leaves from his shirt, 'That'll have to do. Right, Arthur, up you get. Haven't got long.' he started reserving the torches in the ground to form a walkway leading up to the fire, nudging the barley awake Lancelot aside with his foot, 'Right, pretty sure all of us could do it, but I propose Leon officiates; you've put up with them the longest.'

Stumbling to his feet, Arthur raced forward, somewhat embarrassed, grinning through gritted teeth, 'Gwaine. What are you doing?'

'I couldn't sleep, you were talking loudly, end of the day; it's happening.'

Lancelot started laughing heartily, placing a reassuring hand on Merlin as he blushed, 'They aren't even engaged.'

'They basically are, though.' Leon got to his feet and brushed himself down, 'Besides, it's not like you're both to go return to Camelot and decide not to marry. May as well be here, may as well be now.'

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other for a long moment. And then, blooming like the flowers in spring, they smiled. 

Merlin took off his neckerchief, handing it to Leon for the handfasting. The rest went without a word.

Percival and Gwaine stood to the side of Leon to watch the proceedings. Arthur made his way down the aisle first, Elayn self-elected to be his best man and giving him away to the altar with a bow. The prince turned, his expression one of utter adoration as he watched Lancelot lent Merlin his cloak, his shoulder now draped in the red crest of Camelot. Lance led him arm in arm towards his soon to be husband. There was no music, no cheering of crowds, just the sweet melody of birdsong filling the incoming dawn.

Leon gestured for the betrothed to hold hands, which they did without questions. Smoothing out Merlin's neckerchief, Leon carefully began weaving around their hands, ‘With this cloth, I do bind thee to one another. May your lives be entwined as the branches of trees, and as souls which complete in the presence of the other. You take with you the hand of your best friend, you confidant, your lover. Hands which will build your future and hold you in grief as much as love.’ Leon gathered himself, ‘Do you, Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot take…;

‘I do!’ the prince eagerly cut in.

‘Well, alright then. Merlin, do you take Arthur Pendragon to be your husband? To be your companion through life, until the day you both shall die?’

Gwaine looked on as Merlin smiled at the prince. And, for all the pain it caused his to admit, despite Percival’s warm, strong arms around him, Gwain couldn’t help but feel the bite of jealousy, of mourning, as he watched the first man he fell in love with, gaze into the eyes of another and whisper, ‘I do.’

Leon wiped a tear from his eyes, ‘Then, you may kiss your husband.’

Merlin was enveloped in Arthur's arms; their kiss giving away to the cheers and applause of the knights. Gwaine clapped for as long as he could before the sobbing took over. Luckily, all the knights were crying with happiness and didn’t notice the sadness sweeping like darkness over Gwaine’s eyes.

He grabbed Percy’s arms, pulling them tighter around himself. He loved Percival. Of course, he did. But that didn’t lessen the sting of Merlin in the embrace of another. Perhaps that’s how everyone thought of their first love. Perhaps you never recover from that first sweet moment of bliss. With a lookup at Percy’s face, Gwaine hated the fact he knew. Percy’s eyes glistening with their own grief; the grief that he would never be Merlin. Gwaine held his face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss on to the knight’s lips.

 _I love you_ he mouthed.

‘I know.’ Percival held him closer, ‘And… _I know_...and it’s okay.’


	43. For What it's Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Seven (8)

The fateful day had finally dawned.

The day someone would die.

Sailing across the water, still as death itself, Leon was the only one of the knights that could look up from his feet. He tucked his golden hair behind his ears and watched the light dance over the water. No one had brought up what he had said by the fire, but all knew he intended to go through with it; until someone thought of another way to seal the veil, what else was there to say?  
Gwaine had spied Merlin in the morning uttering spells under his breath, but they all knew his magic couldn't work against the Dorocha.

As they swept across the water, Gwaine peered to see Merlin and Arthur, the newlyweds, holding each other in desperation, the sweet dance of love coming to an end. Gwaine himself was in Percival's arms, turning his head to bury into the man's chest. His stomach twisted, as could be expected when one rides to his death, but that wasn't why. Percival hadn't spoken since the wedding the night before. The knight had got up early, arriving back at the camp just as the others were set to leave with no explanation, except for the redness in his eyes. No one mentioned it; Percival was a soft soul, so it was fair to assume he was upset about the day to come, but that didn't explain why rode next to Elyan, not Gwaine, to the Isle. It didn't explain why he winced slightly as Gwaine held his hand. It didn’t explain why Percy couldn’t even look at Merlin.

The boat came to a stop by the ruins. Percival extended his hand to help Gwaine out of the boat, looking elsewhere to avoid his gaze. He couldn’t take the silence. Percy being so distant made his body numb.

Suddenly a scream filled the heavens. All the knights drew their swords.

‘What the hell is that?’ Leon shouted, the screaming getting closer.

Gwaine flicked his eyes to Merlin at the familiar sound.

‘Is it the Dorocha?’ asked Elyan.

‘No. Wyverns.’ Gwaine said, the grip on his sword relaxing slightly, knowing the young dragon lord would be able to deal with it.

As Gwaine looked at Merlin muttering his spells, he didn’t see the Wyvern dive for him from the sky. He spun around abruptly, the snarling screech of the beast almost upon him. Gwaine was rapidly flung out the way by Percival, the swift swing of his arm causing his wound to rip open red. His sword pierced the Wyvern’s chest as Gwaine stumbled to keep his balance.

‘We need to get to the altar!’ Arthur shouted as the pack of monsters clouded the sky, ‘With me!’

‘We’ll hold them off!’ called Elyan, nodding to Percival who raised his sword.

Gwaine raised his own only to find Percy’s hand stopping him, ‘ _We_ will hold them. You should go.’

‘Perce, I’m not going to…’

‘You should go be with Mer...you need to protect the prince; you’re the best with a sword.’ Percival took a breath before placing a quick kiss on Gwaine’s forehead, ‘I’ll protect you from here. Now, go!’

Gwaine couldn’t find the words to respond and hurried after the others as the Wyverns descended. The last thing he saw was the blood weeping through Percival’s chainmail from the rupture.

When he caught up with the others at the altar, he found the sky black, a looming chasm of darkness hacked through the worlds. At its foot stood the Cailleach.

‘It is not often we visitors.’ she smirked at the band of knights.

Arthur stepped forward, Merlin looking on under hooded eyes, ‘I demand you heal the tear between the worlds! End this!’

The witch laughed, ‘It was not I who created this horror. Why should I be the one to stop it? Besides, Arthur Pendragon, it is not I who demands the sacrifice, it is the will of the old gods; blood must be paid with blood. Will you give them what they ask for?’

Arthur took one last glance at Merlin whose eyes were down at the floor, ‘I…’ but before he could finish, Arthur collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

Leon and Lance rushed to his side as he lay motionless. 

‘What did you do?’ screamed Leon, ‘Why did you do this?’

The Cailleach cackled before her eyes rested on the young warlock. It was only then Gwain noticed; Merlin hadn’t flinched. 

Leon drew his sword, marching towards the tear, ‘I will give my life to heal the veil. Take me and…’ and then, with a snap of Merlin’s fingers, Leon too fell.

Lance ran to him, only to be third to fall to his knees, splayed out on the cold stone before the Cailleach. Gwaine’s mind suddenly raced back to that morning and the image of Merlin casting spells while the rest of them slept.

No.

Not Merlin.

Don’t let it be Merlin.

Gwaine reached for the hilt of his sword to find his hand couldn’t move, some invisible force stopping him. He looked up desperately to see tears running down Merlin’s face, yet his expression was blank, resigned to what he was going to do. Gwaine wanted to run forward, to fling himself into the veil, but his feet were stuck to the floor with a flick of the warlock's wrist.

‘Let it be me.’ Gwaine pleaded, ‘Let it be me.’

Merlin smiled, ‘No.’ he looked at the Cailleach, who laughed through the pain inside him, ‘I love you, Gwaine. For whatever that is worth now. I never stopped, no matter what you thought, no matter what you did.’ he choked on the words, ‘I love Arthur too. So much. Will you do one thing?’

‘Anything.’

‘Take care of him for me.’ he raised his fingers.

‘Merlin! Wait!’ Gwaine’s heart ached, ‘For what it’s worth, I still…’

‘I know.’ and with a snap of Merlin’s fingers, everything went to black.


	44. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (1)

He woke screaming.

There was nothing but blackness. Gwaine blinked, trying to get to his feet. He scrambled. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Sweat drew cold on his brow. Feet dug into the dirt. Hands flailed. 

He could not, stop, screaming.

It was only when his eyes finally adjusted to the night that Gwaine saw two arms holding him in place. 

‘You’re okay, you’re safe now, little man.’

_Percival_

Gwaine spun around and clutched onto Percival like a lifeline. He flung himself into the embrace, crying his eyes out before he could even bring himself to speak, ‘Percival. Percy, you’re...you’re here. You’re alive.’

He held his fiance’s face in his shaking hands, Percival faintly smiled, his eyes betraying a deep sorrow. Gwaine pressed a kiss on to his lips.

‘W...where are we?’

Percival sighed, ‘Halfway home to Camelot. You’ve been out cold for days.’

It started to come back. The memories of the knights falling like dominoes; the bruises on his knees from his own fall. Gwaine began to struggle to his feet, ‘The others, are they…’

‘Sit down.’ he’d never heard Percival so sombre.

Gwaine to a seat beside Percival and stared out into the vast nothingness. The trees all melted into one, tangled and torn under stars that cared too little to spit any light their way.

‘I woke up first. I was fending off the Wyverns when I saw Elyan collapse, and I wasn't long after. When I came to, it was night; the Wyverns hadn't attacked us for some reason.' Percival steadied his breathing, 'Once I knew he was alive, I went to find you. You were all the same; you looked dead on the floor and I thought… Lancelot came round. We got the rest of you on to the boat and got the hell out of there. No one knew what happened when we got back.’ Percival looked sternly into his eyes.

Gwaine swallowed and nodded, ‘Merlin…’ he paused and Percy seemed to flinch, ‘He, um, he…’ there was guilt in his voice as he remembered what he said...almost said, ‘He clicked his fingers and we fell. I tried to stop him.’

‘I know you would have done all you could.’

Gwaine sat up, ‘You said you got everyone back though. Was he knocked out, was…’ but then he saw it. The wound on Percival's arm hadn’t healed over. 

‘He wasn’t there.’ Percival sighed.

 _No_ , Gwaine mouthed, his breath quivering, _God no_.

He took his time, wiped his face, and looked up at Percy. And he was glad, so so glad; his Adonis was by his side. Life was still worth living. 

‘You’re safe, Perce. At the end of that day, that’s all that…’

‘Don’t. Just don’t, Gwaine.’ he got to his feet with a groan of pain and began to walk away, ‘I...We’ll talk. But not now. It’s too soon.’

‘Percy. Wait, what’s...’ he didn’t know why, but suddenly he could fathom speaking no other words, ‘You know I love _you_ , don’t you, farm boy?’

Only when Percival had diminished into a shadow did he turn around, the blanket of night a thin veil over his vulnerability, ‘And you know, my love, that you talk in your sleep.’

It was two days back to Camelot, and for two days, Gwaine refused to sleep a wink.


	45. The Coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (2)

They rode through the gates of the citadel to a strange sound. There was cheering, but it came in waves that crashed into silence when the townsfolk noticed Merlin had not returned with them. Sure, he wasn’t a knight, but everyone knew he was more than a servant. Arthur hadn’t spoken the whole way back and Gwaine willingly took the vow of silence with him. The prince hadn’t heard what Merlin said at the Isle of the Blessed, but he knew Gwaine cared for Merlin at the very least and didn’t ask questions.

At the castle, Percival got off his horse and went straight in.

‘Gwaine, is he alright?’ Lancelot asked in a low voice.

Gwaine shook his head, ‘I don’t know what to do, Lance.’

The knight put his arm around Gwaine’s shoulders and walked him to a quiet corridor.

‘Percival is my best friend, Gwaine. Now, you are my brother in arms, but I need to be frank. He lost his first husband, and he thinks he’s lost you now too. He can’t bear it.’

‘I never knew he was married...I thought, he mentioned someone but, it sounded more like a… Fuck.’

Lance folded his arms into his chest, ‘It’s too painful for him to talk about. I only know his name was Hartley. And that Percival loved him very much. Truth be told, I never thought he would recover, but then you came along. When we met you in the battle, I knew he was besotted from the start. I thought, there, there is a man who might just be worthy. Now, I doubt you Gwaine, I…’

Gwaine raked his hands through his hair in frustration, ‘I don’t understand, Lance! I don’t, what have I done…’

‘It’s what you said in your sleep.’

‘But..but… I don’t know what I said! I don’t remember what I dreamt of, I...What did I say?’

Lance sighed, ‘Just Merlin’s name. Over and over and over. You were _weeping_ his name, in all honesty.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything.’

‘And you crying at the wedding?’ there was a ring of anger rising in Lance’s voice, ‘You were crying like it was a funeral. Percival saw, he knows.’

‘I love Percival. I want to marry him. He is the most perfect man I have ever known and I am thankful every day for that man's love. I don’t want anyone else, it’s him, it’s only…’

‘The tell him that.’ Lancelot cut in, ‘I care for you a great deal Gwaine, as I do all my brothers. I want you to be happy. _Both of you_.’

Gwaine nodded and, with reluctance turned away. He needed to fix things with Percival, but first, he needed a drink.

…

It was near midnight by the time Gwaine pushed open the door to their chambers, having finally summoned the courage to talk. Percival sat with his back to him, thin linen draped over his broad shoulders. He looked so small somehow. Gwaine gently shut the door behind him. He walked around to kneel down before Percival.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, little man.’

Gwaine took both of Percival's hands into his own, holding them against his face, ‘You said we should talk. Can we do that now?’ he gave a faint nod, ’Lancelot told me what I’d said in my sleep. Before Merlin knocked me out, he told me he intended to give up his life; I can only assume that’s what I was thinking of when I was out. I don’t remember, Perce. All I remember is waking up and seeing you and being so relieved.’

Percival grimaced, ‘Gwaine, it’s not just that. It’s just you crying in your sleep, at the wedding, suddenly I realised. All those times I caught you looking at him. All the stolen glances he gave you. Every patrol where I’d wait on the steps for you as you laughed with Merlin… I know you still love him. And I thought I...I thought I could handle it but I don’t know if I can.’

Gwaine bit his lip, ‘Merlin’s _dead_ Percy. Even if I did, he’s gone.’

Percival got up with a start, ‘You don’t stop loving someone just because they’ve died, Gwaine.’ he went to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine, downing it in one gulp, ‘I can deal with being your second choice, but I can’t deal with you sticking around just because you’ve run out of options.’

Something stang in Gwaine’s chest at that. Had all those months together counted for nothing? All the nights together, the meadow, the love Gwaine wanted to shout from the rooftops for Percy; did it mean _nothing_?

‘It’s you I want, Percival.’ his voice grew stern, ‘And you aren’t my second choice, any more than I’m yours.’ Percy threw a questioning glance, ‘Lance told me about Har…’

‘Don’t you dare say his name.’

‘All I’m trying to say is that we both lost the first person we fell in love with, but we have a chance now…’

‘How dare you!’ the goblet crashed against the floor with such force the metal buckled in on itself, ‘Hartley died in my arms after being mowed down by Cendred’s men for no good reason! I couldn’t save him, I just had to watch helplessly as he coughed up blood and the light went from his eyes. It is not the same!’ Percival snarled in a bitter rage, ‘ Whereas you? You were just too much of a coward to fight for the man you loved and ended up in a pit killing innocent men feeling sorry for yourself.’

Images of Allard, the pit, the last goodbye, the butterfly in the fire; they span before Gwaine’s eyes, sliding across his vision on the tidal waves of hurt, ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Wasn’t it? You could have fought for him! You could’ve damned the consequences and made a life together! You could’ve seen a mile off he loved you more than he ever loved Arthur!’ he suddenly went quiet, ‘And it’s not just me. Everyone could see it...Even Arthur.’

They stood facing each other. Percival looked weak, putting a hand on the table lest he fall to his knees with exhaustion. Gwain opened his mouth, trying to form words, but to no avail.

‘I need you to go.’

He ran forward, but Percival held out a hand to stop him, afraid one touch might make him crumble.

‘I need you to work out what you want. Do you want me? Or do you just not want to be alone?’

‘I choose you, Percival, always you.’  
‘Go. Think about it. Come back. Because if you decide you don’t want me, I’ll have the chance to move on and be happy, in time. But if you stay for the wrong reasons, I guarantee you I’ll be by your side like a loyal dog until my death, no matter how miserable it makes me. I don’t want that.’ he moved to the door and opened it slowly, gesturing Gwaine to leave.

He took a moment to grab his satchel and cloak for the cold night air and then left without a word. Within the hour, Gwaine was rising out into the forest, slumped over his horse, numb and alone once more.


	46. In The Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (3)

Gwaine had been riding in the darkness for some hours when he finally stopped. He had no idea where to go, moving in circles, doubling back, until he fell off his horse in a small clearing. He gathered some firewood and, with some effort in the light drizzle, managed to get it alight. As the flames sputtered, Gwaine noticed where he was. The familiar sword marks on the trees, the silver moon in the crescent of treetops; without realising it, Gwaine was back where it all started. The clearing where he and Merlin when he was first banished.

He leant his head against the rough bark of the tree, breathing as slowly as he could. His mind wouldn’t settle. Maybe Percival was right, if Merlin’s last words were anything to go by. Gwaine often thought about how things might have worked out differently, but at the same time, if he had fought for Merlin, he would never have found Percy. He would never have known that sweet first embrace in the Meadow, or those carefree nights slurring folk songs at the tavern in his arms, he wouldn’t have known the pure joy of agreeing to marry the most beautiful soul he’d ever seen. But Merlin still made his way into his dreams. He couldn’t make sense of any of it.

For tonight, he would give up, burying his head in his hands, trying to ride the waves of nausea in his chest. After a short while of trying to cry, finding his eyes dry and body shaking, he looked up…

The fire was dying.

But then, it began to move. Too slow, unnaturally. Just one slim lick of the flames rising higher.

Gwaine’s heart stopped.

And in that delicate blaze, beating its wings; _a butterfly_.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. It just couldn’t be.

‘Hello, Gwaine.’


	47. The Deity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (4)

Merlin stood before him. His clothes damp and torn in the rain, his skin a tapestry of dried blood and bruises. Gwaine couldn’t feel his body as he drifted towards the figure in the shadows. The warlock’s eyes were rimmed in black, the always exquisite curves of his lips broken by a bloodied split. Gwaine’s hands reached out slowly, tenderly cupping Merlin’s face to not aggravate the wounds. He brushed a fingertip over his lips.

‘Am I dreaming?’ Gwaine breathed, not quite trusting the warmth in his hands, the slow, steady rushing of blood through Merlin’s neck.

Merlin tried to smile, stopping short to not rip the split on his lips, or perhaps because the relief was tinged with grief. He placed his hand against Gwaine’s cheek, smoothly running his hands over his stubble as he used to, Gwaine couldn’t help but remember, in those halcyon moments in bed. He turned his lips into Merlin’s palm, pressing a kiss. Merlin snaked his other hand into Gwaine’s hair, pulling his face close enough to feel each other’s breath. Cautious and unsure, Merlin leaned into a deep, heavy kiss.

‘This has to be a dream.’ Gwaine repeated, barely audible, his head light and swaying.

He kissed Merlin back, pulling his body close against his own. An unspoken plea for Merlin not to stop.

Merlin wrapped both arms around Gwaine’s neck as Gwaine, shaking, inflamed, enveloped the young man into his arms. They became hungry, greedy; Merlin didn’t even feel the bruises as Gwaine lifted him into his arms, legs wrapped around the knight's waist. Merlin felt the tree press against his back as Gwaine pinned their bodies together with his weight. He let out a faint moan as Gwaine’s tongue found his own, the metallic taste of blood hot and wet. Merlin ground his hips in Gwaine’s. It was sublime. It was heaven. It was a tortured hell. Merlin hated how good it felt. Gwaine knew he should stop.

They stared at each other, panting like animals.

‘I…’ Gwaine began, his eyes rolling with the sweet sin of Merlin’s body on his, ‘I still don’t know if this is real.’

‘It’s real. I’m here.’ Merlin’s breath shivered with shame, but having been so close to death, he would allow himself this one transgression, ‘We’ll tell no one. Not a soul. Just, please Gwaine, please, don’t stop.’

Gwaine bit his lip, twisting his morality around the feverish urge to give in. He saw Percival’s face in his mind, how sad he looked, how broken. And then he looked at Merlin, so lost and afraid and...and he couldn’t do it. With a broken sigh, he let go of Merlin, whose feet fell to the ground with the soft thud, ‘You’re married now. I’m engaged. We shouldn't have… we can’t, we…’ Gwaine suddenly couldn’t move.

In the lashes of rain, there was something different. Merlin no longer looked like the boy he’d met so long ago. Here stood a man who had defeated death with his bare hands, and bore the scars to prove it. Lightning cracked and lit his torn body in gold, and Gwaine finally recognised Merlin as what he truly was; the divine beauty of a deity incarnate.

Merlin trembled and at that sight, Gwaine knew he could never again pretend to be a good man, ‘Oh God forgive me.’ 

He grabbed Merlin back. Their hands ripped at each other’s clothes, laying flesh bare under the stars. The rain-drenched them, bodies hot and slick as they fell to the floor. Merlin’s teeth sank into his neck. He moaned. The dirt-covered their naked bodies. Merlin touched him, he touched back. Their passion was as writhing as the storm that raged over them. Neither man could find any air. Merlin's body, strong and domineering, towered over Gwaine’s.

And for a moment, they paused.

'We can't.' they both whispered together.

Merlin swallowed hard and awkwardly moved away, ‘But we want to.’

Gwaine put his head in his hands, ‘This isn’t love, Merlin. It hasn’t been for a long time. This…’ he let out a grunt of frustration, ‘This is just fucking torture.’

Rain pearled on Gwaine’s body as he turned his back, shrugging his clothes back on. How could he even contemplate such a betrayal? But at least, for the first time in a long while, his mind was clear.

‘I thought you were going to die.’ Gwaine slumped down by the fire, eyeing Merlin cautiously as he poked the embers, ‘We loved each other once, didn’t we? And it felt like heaven, Merlin. But now it’s dark, corrupted… Think of Arthur.’

Merlin hung his head, ‘You’re right.’

‘I’m so happy you’re alive, Merlin. But this ends _now_. I’ve already hurt Percy too much.’

‘Sorry.’ Merlin murmured.

‘Me too. It’s my fault as much as yours.’

For a long time, they didn’t speak. Merlin relit the fire with a few gestures of his hand, pulling the canopy of trees to shelter them as they dried their clothes.

‘How did you survive?’

Merlin kneaded his forehead, ‘It’s a bit of a blur, to be honest. After you all… I told the Cailleach I was going to sacrifice myself, but she didn’t want to take my life gently. In the end, in all the turmoil, all I remember is grabbing her and casting her into the veil.'

'But how? The Cailleach wasn't human. How did you have the power to do that?'

Merlin shrugged, 'I honestly don't know. The legends speak of how she isn't living and thus cannot die; but the veil closed when I spilled...when I… I'm a murderer.'

Gwaine wanted to reach out, but he knew he couldn't, 'You saved the kingdom. You lived. It's a good thing.'

'Something has changed, Gwaine, I can feel it. My magic has always been there but now it's surging almost, it's like it's burning through my blood.' Merlin bit his lip, 'Arthur's going to find out.'

Gwaine cocked his head, 'You mean, he doesn't…'

'No. And he's not going to find out. I'll tell him I don't remember what happened.' Merlin's eyes clouded dark, 'And so will you.'

He nodded without a word. 

'Why are you out here anyway?'

It was Gwaine's turn to bare his soul, 'Percival and I had a talk. When he was getting me back to Camelot I was talking in my sleep; it made him think I didn't love him. That I still...Who can blame him? He wanted me to go until I could clear my head enough to know what to do.'

'And do you know what you'll do.' it wasn't so much a question when Merlin spoke. They both knew, but the dream of running away together flooded their minds as the rain did the forest floor, 'We best not arrive back at the same time, then.'

'You go first. I'll follow in a few days. Arthur will want you back as soon as.' Gwaine smiled to himself, 'Gods, can you imagine that prats face when you come home?' they laughed, ‘Go on. Don’t keep him waiting.’

As the dawn light came around, Gwaine sat in the silence of the forest. At the same moment, just some miles away, the Merlin dragged his ragged body into the citadel, falling down at the steps of the castle. The household was awoken by the Prince wailing, cradling Merlin in his arms having raced down the steps in nothing but his bedclothes. Merlin looked up and smiled. Gwaine had been right; _this_ was love; in the open and the sunlight, not rolled in the dirt and cloaked in night.


	48. And I Came Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (5)

He’d thought about it all night and day, tossed everything over in his mind endlessly, with only one outcome. Gwaine’s mind was made when he began making his way back to Camelot. As he approached the edge of the forest in the late afternoon, he could see the fanfare. Banners of every colour were hung from the rafters as music and cheering filled the air. 

It wasn’t long before his horse reached the castle steps, weaving his way through the crowds who gathered with their banners and flowers. With a fond glance, he looked up to the balcony. Arthur stood hand in hand with Merlin, waving at the people. Merlin’s wounds had been cleaned away, but more than that, he was dressed in fine robes, a Pendragon cloak hanging from his shoulders and sigil pinned to his chest. 

Merlin spotted Gwaine in the crowds, sticking out atop his horse, and waved. Gwaine gave a salute with a grin. _Yes_ , he thought, _this is how it should be_. Getting off his horse he spired Elyan and Leon heading towards the tavern.

‘Gwaine! Where have you been? Did you see? Merlin’s alive!’ Leon almost skipped towards him with his happiness.

‘I did yes. Look, where’s Percival?’ Gwaine was finding it hard to contain his smile, ‘I need to see him.’

Elyan looked a little sheepish, ‘He hasn’t left his chambers for a few days. I think he’s there.’

‘Great. Thanks!’ Gwaine began to run off before turning around playfully, ‘I’ll be down at the tavern later, drinks on me!’

The two knights cheered and Gwaine, his pace rapid, raced up the stairs and burst into the chambers. Percival was getting on his finer clothes, slowly and methodically, when he suddenly spun around to see Gwaine, dishevelled and smiling in the doorway.

Percival tried to smile, ‘You heard then?’

‘I did. To be honest, I saw him before I got back. He found me in the forest.’

Percy’s face dropped.

‘I saw him. And I came back to you.’ Gwaine rushed forward but slowed himself as he saw Percy shaking like a leaf.

The knight swallowed, ‘What about how you...you and Merlin...me, I…’

Gwaine took slow steps, scared of startling the young knight into running away, ‘I thought about it. Everything. And I decided you were right. I _was_ a coward. If I’d have fought for him, me and Merlin would probably be together now.’ he seized Percival’s hands in his own, beaming ear to ear as Percival desperately tried to work out where this was going, ‘And I am so fucking glad I was a coward. Because if I’d fought for him, I never would have found you, Perce.’

Slowly, ever so slowly, Percival began to smile for the first time in days, ‘You better not be joking around.’

‘I’m not. Do you remember when you asked me to marry you? You got down on one knee and I said I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. I said that because it is true, and I hate myself for the fact I made you doubt that for one second. So, farm boy, if you’ll still have me, I am yours, forever.’

His words hung in the air, Percival holding back a tear; he nodded. Small at first, but growing, until his whole face lit up. Gwaine grabbed him into a kiss, feeling the strong arms around him.

‘Right!’ Percival pulled away with a cheeky smile, he wasn’t going to let himself cry ‘Pub, then?’

‘God I love you, Perce.’ 

They laughed as they began to walk out, when Gwaine suddenly stopped him, running to the chest of drawers. He returned with their sigils, pinning one to each of their tunics, ‘Can’t have people not knowing you’re mine. You’d get snapped up in a second.’

An hour later, the pair were blissfully drunk, enraptured in the other's arms as they swayed to folk songs, laughing with the celebrations of the safe return of the now Prince Merlin.

Suddenly, Percival was craning his neck to the far booth at the end of the bar, 'Oh...Oh my god!'

'What is it, love?'

He pointed, going to whisper in Gwaine's ear but, in his shock, exclaiming, 'Look at Lance!'

Gwaine turned to see Lancelot and Gwen, surrounded by several empty tankards, making out in the corner.

'Good on you, Gwen!' the pair looked up embarrassed as Gwaine shouted, 'You’ve done well. He's a bit of all right is Lance!'

The knights roared with laughter. All except Elyan, who rushed to his feet and chased Lance out the pub, Gwen tittering in the corner, face flushed with wine.

'They're worse than us.' Gwaine smirked into Percival's ear.

He held on to his fiance tighter, 'Is that an observation or a challenge?'

'Oh, definitely a challenge.'

And with that, Percival pulled Gwaine up with one of his arms, the drunken knights leaning against Percy's muscular body as he downed his drink, 'Sorry lads,' Percival said to their company, turning to Gwaine with a wink, 'Duty calls.' and he swept Gwaine up into his arms. The drunken jeers and mock disapproval evaporated into the night as they walked back to their chambers.

It was going to be okay.


	49. No Man Compares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (6)

Things were getting back to normal, and Gwaine was working hard to keep it that way. Aside from attending the official ceremony where he was crowned, Merlin and he had made a silent agreement to keep away from each other, just to let things settle. The one contact they’d had was to quietly agree to never speak of the night in the forest. It might not have been the noblest thing to do, but it saved their respective partners unnecessary hurt. Besides, it wasn’t like it was going to happen again.

That morning, Gwaine had woken up early enough to kiss Percival goodbye before his patrol, deciding to make the most of the day and pulling on his clothes with the sleep still in his eyes. Outside, his eyes fell on a now-familiar sight. Percival and Merlin were joking around as the patrol got their horses ready; Merlin playfully hit Percival in retort to some jibe as the knight fell about laughing. Gwaine waved at them from the balcony of his chambers as he bit into an apple. Percival blew a kiss to the jeers of the other knights before the band set off for their ride. It was only as Gwaine began to turn away that he noticed Arthur wasn’t with them. In fact, he was at Gwaine’s door.

‘Any plans today?’ the young Prince smiled.

‘Not particularly.’

‘Good. Then get dressed, we’re going out.’

‘Oh, are we?’ Gwaine chuckled as he began changing his shirt, ‘Don’t you have duties to attend to?’

Arthur smirked, strolling into the room with ease, ‘I think I’m allowed one day off.’

Truth be told, Arthur had been taking a lot of days off of late and, to his surprise, was spending them with Gwaine. The past three times, the knight and the prince had ridden down into the lower town, gathering materials for new clothes to be made, stopping for an ale or two at the tavern (Gwaine had the pleasure of finding out the prince was a lightweight and managed to get him dancing on the tables, eventually having to be dragged back to the castle by a sniggering Merlin), and even helped Gwaine decide on wedding plans. He couldn’t work out why the Prince was paying him so much attention, but it was nice to find a friend in him. Once Gwaine was ready, the Prince led the two of them out to the lower town.

‘So, what am I helping you today then, eh?’ Gwaine asked as they meandered through the streets.

‘Tomorrow’s a big day.

‘Feast of Beltane.’

‘Exactly.’ Arthur clicked in Gwaine’s direction, ‘And, more importantly, Merlin’s first royal duty since becoming prince. Don’t tell the others, but he’s absolutely bricking it. I thought new clothes, something fancy, might help make him feel more confident.’

Gwaine smiled to himself; Arthur was quiet sweet really, ‘Sounds like a good plan. Not sure why I’m the go-to though.’

‘Well, you’re always turned out very well.’ Gwaine laughed until he caught the Prince’s eye, which lingered on his face just a little too long. 

‘He likes purple.’ Gwaine declared, brushing off the invasive gaze, ‘Let’s start there.’

Gwaine was glad he was there in the end, as the prince cluelessly spent over an hour looking at fabrics, patterns, dyes, only to end up sitting on the floor with his head in his hands and Gwaine chose. Arthur was good with a sword, good as a leader and, if the gossip from the guards was to be believed, good in the bedroom, but damn he had no idea when it came to the delicate matters of presents.

‘Honestly, Gwaine, I don’t understand. It all looked the bloody same to me!’ Arthur vented over an ale at the inn, ‘What did you get again? I need to remember when I present it to Merlin.’

Gwaine rolled his eyes in amusement, ‘You can’t remember anything, you. Right, it’s dyed with Iris flowers, it’s damask material, _you_ chose it because the lights hits it better than satin, the trim is silver lace. And, the tailor is going to drop it by this evening.’ Arthur nodded, getting slower and slower. ‘You’re not going to remember any of that, are you?’

‘I’ll tell him I thought it was pretty, that’s enough. I can only be so good of a husband.’ Arthur downed his pint, ‘Right. It’s that dreaded time again.’

Since the battle, Uther had been inconsolable. The once strong king had grown frail and grey in wake of Morgana’s betrayal, becoming so isolated within his mind he could hardly speak; Arthur could only bear it once a week now, any more and he’d lose his mind.

Gwaine sucked his teeth, ‘You going to bottle it again?’

‘Probably.’ Arthur sighed, ‘He just… He won’t understand why I married a… a _commoner_. Merlin doesn’t mind, truth be told, I don’t think he really cares, it’s just… It would be nice to have his blessing, even if it is in retrospect. I’ll see how he is anyway.’

Gwaine got to his feet, ‘Ahh, I’ll head out with you. Need to swing by the forest anyway.’ Arthur gave a knowing look with raised eyebrows, ‘Yeah, I’m getting him flowers.’

‘For someone so strong you’re rather soft really, aren’t you?’ Arthur gave a bashful smile as the entered the street, only for it to turn deathly serious in the blink of an eye, ‘Gwaine, look out!’

Gwaine spun around to see three men on horseback charging through the streets and right at him. He gasped, stuck to the floor, until Arthur caught him by the waist, pulling him to safety against the outer wall of the tavern. The prince looked back, panting, his arms still solidly around Gwaine’s waist, to see the men apprehended by a battalion of guards, ‘Are you okay?’ the prince turned to face Gwaine, both men suddenly realising their faces were hardly an inch apart and Gwaine, in the rush of it all, had grabbed on to Arthur’s waist in return.

They stared at each other. 

Arthur coughed and jolted backwards, looking down at his feet and patting his hands against his shins, ‘Well, um.’

‘Thanks, Arthur.’ Gwaine ran a hand through his hair as the prince looked up sheepishly, ‘Thought I was a goner there… Anyway.’

‘Anyway! Yes.’ Arthur turned to get on his horse but stopped short, ‘Um,’ he began without confidence, clearing his throat, ‘You know, me and Merlin were wondering if you and Percival might want to join us for a drink sometime? ‘

‘Oh, well, I…’

‘What about tonight? Have some fun before the bore of a royal feast tomorrow. I’ll send someone to fetch you and Percival later.’

Before Gwaine could respond, Arthur had mounted his horse and left.

…

The evening began to draw in and the dying light qued Percy to return from the day-long patrol. Gwaine got up, slightly nervous to ask about the drink tonight. Percival swept through the door and discarding his sword belt to the floor, pulled Gwaine into a deep kiss, ‘Good evening.’

‘It is now.’ Gwaine smiled before he noticed Percival’s slightly nervous demeanour.

Taking a breath, Percy got changed as he spoke, Gwaine trying his best to not let his concentration lapse from the conversation to his biceps, ‘So, I was talking to Merlin today and... he and Arthur want to have us over for drinks. Not sure when but…’

‘Arthur said tonight when I saw him earlier. How do you feel about that?’

‘Me?’ Percy pulled a tunic over his rippling chest, ‘I’m fine with it. Might be nice actually. Double date. As long as you’re comfortable?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am.’ 

The pair smiled at each other; they really had grown.

…

‘There is no way!’ Arthur roared with laughter, ‘No way did you actually do that!’

‘I’m being serious! I told that ugly bastard fuck…’

‘Gwaine!’

‘What! He was! Anyway, I told that git I wasn’t going to pay for his pig swill ale and the bugger threw he right down the bar!’

‘I had to catch him at the other end,’ Merlin scoffed from the other side of the table, leaning back in his seat next to Percy, ‘ You would’ve landed right on your face otherwise!’

‘You trying to say I’m undignified?’ Gwaine leaned forward with a smirk.

‘Just a clumsy oaf, I think.’ Arthur quipped in.

Gwaine’s mouth dropped; he’d never heard the prince be so relaxed, let alone cracking jokes.

‘Don’t look at me like that, old friend,’ Arthur winked with a hand slapped on Gwaine’s thigh, ‘You know it’s in jest.’

Percival laughed into his wine, ‘It shouldn’t be. He tripped over an apple core yesterday.’

Gwaine lunged forward and flicked the bottom of Percival’s goblet, falling back content that he’d managed to spill it all down his fiance's front. Merlin began launching into another story when Gwaine slowly became aware Arthur hadn't moved from his thigh. In fact, it had crept up from his knee. Swallowing, Gwaine looked at Arthur cautiously and found the Prince’s gaze locked on Merlin, not wanting to acknowledge it but concentrating Gwaine in the corner of his eye. It was odd but hardly unpleasant. Gwaine let it be, the Prince was a lightweight after all and was fast becoming a tactile man since owning up to his feelings for Merlin; the repressed prat.

‘Oh as if!’ Percvial cut through Gwaine’s thoughts, ‘Merlin, I know you love him, and I respect you Arthur, but Gwaine is the better swordsman.’

‘Bollocks is he!’ Merlin sniggered with a cheeky grin on his face; his eyes lit up by the purple tunic against his fair skin.

Arthur swayed his drunken gaze to Gwaine, ‘I am better. Merlin’s always right. He’s the husband that’s always right out of the two of us; I’ve learned this the hard way.’

‘I’m the _lesser_ fighter? Well, then, princess, I’ll just have to humiliate you at practice’

‘I’ve been…’

‘...Trained to kill since birth!’ Merlin finished with a kick under the table, ‘Don’t make me switched sides, now.’

‘Of course not darling,’ Arthur slyly rolled his eyes as Gwaine before leaning into a whisper, ‘I _would_ won though.’

‘No chance.’ and again, just for a split second, Arthur held his gaze too long.

The guards softly knocked on the door sometime later to let them know it was past midnight. Percy and Gwaine hugged the princes' goodbye, before walking back to their chambers in an unexpected silence. When Gwaine finally closed the door behind them, he turned to see Percival’s eyes wide.

‘Right.’ the knight swallowed taking a seat at their table and pulling the bottle of wine over to him, ‘This is going to be a very… _intimate_ question but, um…’ he took a glug of wine before the words tumbled out., ‘When you and Merlin were together, did you ever invite other people in?’

Gwaine shook his head, ‘No, never. But...I mean...Arthur was a bit...handsy tonight.’

Percival raised his eyebrows, ‘So was Merlin.’

‘What… _what_?’ Gwaine took a seat, laughing his head off, ‘What the hell happened tonight?’

Percival nearly spat out his wine, ‘I don't know, I don’t know!’ he was giggling like a schoolgirl, ‘Were they...No. Surely not. But were they angling for it? With both of us?’

‘Christ, can you imagine?’

‘I can actually.’ Gwaine was taken aback by how quickly Percy responded, ‘It’s not a bad image, just a new one.’

‘You’d be fine seeing another man’s hands all over me?’

‘Yeah. Because none of them are ever gonna compare to me.’

‘Is that so?’’

‘Fucking right it is.’

Percy grabbed Gwaine by the collar, forcing him to walk backwards until he tripped and fell onto the bed. He ripped off his shirt, biting into Gwaine neck, his shoulder, his hip. Bright red bruises blooming on his skin as he convulsed in the sudden flurry of pleasure. Gwaine grunted in sweet agony as Percival flipped him over, pulling him on to his knees as he bit into his thigh, his tongue warm as it slid intimately upwards. Gwaine inhaled; Percy had never done that before. The flick of his tongue pressing into him made him shake, eye-rolling in his head. Pulling back, Percival spat, slowly pushing a finger inside Gwaine, his other hand smoothing down his back.

‘More.’ Gwaine whispered as he pushed back on Percy’s hand, the knight venturing a second finger inside. 

Percival watched Gwaine muscular body writhe to his every moment, back arched in submission, bite marks down his back like battle wounds of bliss. With his free hand, he grabbed a small jar of olive oil from the bed stand and rubbed it over his fingers, then his whole palm.

Gwaine was expecting what they’d done so many times before, but instead felt four fingers push inside him. He’d never taken that many before. Goosebumps rippled over his skin as Percy began to hit the right spot. He breathed deeply, in the same slow rhythm as Pery’s fingers, in and out, beginning to relax around them.

‘You like that?’ Gwaine couldn’t breathe for the sensuous tidal waves from the motion, ‘Still want more?’ he nodded weakly, letting his body be at the will of his fiance. 

He felt hot oil drop across his skin as Percy pulled away, just for a moment, before his whole hand began to slide inside him. Gwaine nearly screamed with how good it felt, gagging himself on the bed sheets to stop the guards running in. Every heavy, slow push of his hand, shockwaves were sent through Gwaine’s whole body, tensing around Percival’s wrist with delicious ease.

Growing in confidence, Percy angled his arm, pushing down with just a touch more pressure to the sight of Gwaine pulling at his own hair in the throws of it. Percy snatched the duvet out of Gwaine’s teeth and away from his reach. As he lent down to his face, his arm pushed deeper still, and all the control Gwaine could muster was going into not making a sound.

‘If you want me to keep going, ‘ Percy’s breath was fiery in Gwaine’s ear, ‘I want to hear how much you like it. I want the whole fucking castle to know how good I make you feel.’

With Percy’s permission, and not a moment before, Gwaine let out a heaving groan. He panted, sweat on his brow, body pliant and willing to every thunderous thrust. Percy reached forward with his free hand and placed a tight grip on Gwaine’s cock, stroking it in the same certain motion as he penetrated. 

‘Oh god, Percival... It’s so...Jesus fuck…’

Gwaine could feel it. It was building up inside him like a powder keg ready to explode; like a dam about to break.

‘Do it. And say my name.’

He’d never felt this good, tears in his eyes from the intensity of it.

‘Percival. Don’t stop, oh god, oh, fuck Percival, yes!’

Gwaine’s body fell limp as Percy gently pulled away. After a moment at the washbasin, Percival returned, picked Gwaine up with ease into his arms and laid him down the right way on the bed before snuggling in on top of him.

‘Please do that again tomorrow night.’ Gwaine breathed, ‘And by the way… It suits you.’

‘What does?’

Gwaine gave an exhausted smirk, ‘ Talking filth.’


	50. The Hunger at the Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (7)

The Beltane celebrations were well underway since the clock struck six and the Prince’s had finished the first round of talks with the Druids. As a token of good faith and commitment to ending the persecution of the people, the court of Camelot agreed to celebrate the union of the Goddess and the Green Man with the Druids, ahead of many complex political manoeuvres towards peace. Merlin had done well in his first royal duty, welcoming the druids into the castle and taking part in their negotiations, and now reclined into his chair at the feast, eagerly talking to ambassadors and drinking himself confident.

Arthur was overwhelmingly pleased with the proceedings, or so he said, but the face of thunder he turned on to Merlin every few moments could help but peak Gwaine’s attention, especially when he excused himself and headed for the courtyard.

‘Is he alright?’ Gwaine asked at their table.

Lancelot folded his arms, ‘I don’t know. The talks went well, though, he’s got no reason to be grumpy.’

‘As if the prat needs a reason.’ Elyan smirked, beating Leon to the last bread roll, ‘Merlin’s looking awfully pleased with himself though.’

Percival glanced sideways at Gwaine from his tankard of ale, thinking about the strange evening they’d all spent together.

‘Maybe someone should go check on him.’ Percy suddenly announced, turning resolutely towards Gwaine.

Taken aback, Gwaine had to fumble for his words, ‘I mean...I guess I could go.’

‘Good, because I don’t want to stop drinking. More ale anyone?’ the knights cheered as Percy got up to roll another barrel over, Gwaine following the guiding touch on his elbow.

He looked up at Percy, who had begun to bite his lip ever so slightly, ‘Go find the prince.’

‘Why do you want me to go?’ Gwaine puzzled.

Percival rolled his shoulders back, ‘Because you’ve been staring at him all night.’ before Gwaine could protest, a finger was raised to his lips, hidden from the crowds by Percy’s broad chest turned in on him, ‘Which is fine. It’s...there’s something about it that’s a little intoxicating. You, the prince…And like I said, I know you’ll come back to me.’

Gwaine furrowed his brow, ‘I think you’re a bit drunk, Perce.’ he tried to laugh it off, but the glint of lust in his fiance’s eyes made him take the comment more seriously, ‘I’ll check on Arthur. Just… Check on him.’ and, confused as ever, slowly made his way outside.

The prince was perched on the steps not far from the banquet hall, shoulders slumped and huffing sighs between gulps of wine. Gwaine’s light footsteps were the only sound in the dying light, and Arthur momentarily.

‘Trouble in paradise, princess?’ 

‘Shut up.’ Arthur took another glug as Gwaine sat down, noticing the prince had vanished from the table with not one, but three bottles.

He let out a breath, hand held up in surrender, ‘Sorry. None of my business, I’m sure. Just wanted to check you were okay.’

Arthur turned to him with an unexpected intensity in his eyes, ‘What is it about you, Gwaine?’ A quiet hate was singing the shores of his words, ‘What the hell is it?’

‘Not sure what you mean.’ Gwaine couldn't break the look the prince was giving him, his breath getting shallow with every passing second.

‘He said your name last night.’

And then Gwaine couldn’t breathe at all.

‘He moaned it. He kept saying it, over and over. And it wasn’t a mistake. My husband looked me dead in the eyes and said your name as I had him.’

Gwaine thought the prince was resentful, preparing himself for a fight when he noticed Arthur’s eyes had dropped to Gwaine’s lips. He flicked his eyes over the Prince's shoulder to a figure in the doorway. Percival stood half in shadow watching them, calmly drinking from his cup with a smile.

Licking his lips, Arthur moved closer, drinking in the sight of Gwaine’s body loosely held in calico and leather, ‘I like it.’ Arthur breathed, no longer trying to conceal the ache of his body, ‘When he says you’re name. I have no idea why; it drives me insane with jealousy but…’ he looked up, flushed.

Percival was still watching when Gwaine’s hand snaked up Arthur's leg, ‘How cruel Merlin is to you,’ cautiously, but with growing urgency, Gwaine’s hand made its way to the lip of Arthur’s belt, his fingers gently hooking under the fastening, ‘I wonder how he’d feel if you made him jealous like that.’ the belt came undone, ‘If you were so very cruel.’ Gwaine's hand was suddenly grasping Arthur’s hard-on, ‘Maybe you should find out what all the fuss is about, sire?’

Arthur nodded, breathlessly, trying to get to his feet. Gwaine pulled him up by the collar and pushed him through the castle doors before looking back; Percival was still watching them and gave a nod of approval to Gwaine before disappearing back into the feast.

Gwaine shifted his weight to his back foot, the anticipation of what he’d been given permission to do coursing through his blood. His eyes flicked up to Arthur’s, a lustful grin playing on his lips before he began marching the prince away from the throngs of guests and guards. The corridors became quieter as they got closer to Arthur's chambers. The two of them broke into a sprint at the end before Gwaine gave in and threw Arthur through the nearest door into a disused servants quarters.

The room was small and dark, only a single bed pressed against the corner Gwaine managed to glimpse before he kicked the door shut behind him. In an instant Arthur was on him, hands clawing in Gwaine’s hair. His kisses were biting, ravenous, Gwaine’s teeth catching the tang of blood with their ferocity.

Gwaine jerked Arthur’s head back, walking him back to the far wall ‘Bit pent up are we, Princess?’ the prince snarled with lust, ‘Bit frustrated, eh?’ Arthur pulled Gwaine back into him, their foreheads crushed together just short of a sharp kiss.

‘You’re a fucking tease, Gwaine.’ Arthur was red with hunger, snatching a kiss from Gwaine’s lips.

Gwaine dug his nails into his hips to a rough groan, ‘I want you inside me.’ he took Arthurs hands on to his throbbing cock, rocking into his grasp, ‘Go on. Take it out on me. Use me. _Sire_.’

Arthur spun him around without warning, pressing Gwaine’s cheek against the cold stone as he tugged down his trousers. His eyes watered as the Prince entered him; it seemed the rumours were true. Arthur thrust into Gwaine, pulling him back by his hair as skin smacked with sweat. Gwaine punched his fist into the wall trying to cope with the brutally good sensation of Arthur stretching him open.

'Take it.' Arthur ordered, pushing every inch of himself inside the knight; Gwaine never would have thought the prince liked it this rough, and it felt good, too good. 

His mind raced with the images of walking back into the feast. How Percival's eyes would take in his dishevelled clothes, the scratch marks on his collar-bone, before taking him upstairs and reclaiming him as his own. In Arthur's mind, the satisfaction of Merlin knowing he'd been with Gwaine as well, felt the hard muscles of his body convulsing with his thrusts, was sending him over the edge.

Gwaine pushed back, palms flat against the wall, feeling every inch of the prince pulse inside of him as he came. He turned slowly, slipping a hand around Arthur’s neck. He leant back against the wall, not breaking Arthur’s gaze as he fastened up his trousers, ‘Impressive.’ he winked.

Arthur caught his arm before Gwaine could reach and pull his shirt back on, ‘Wait a second.’ his fingers slipped between Gwaine’s legs, ‘I think it’s your turn.’

He let the prince caress him, still hard, for a few tantalizing moments, ‘I can’t let you have all the fun, princess, I’ve got a fiance to think of.’ he grabbed on his shirt and went to the door, turning back with a smirk, ‘Maybe next time.’

Gwaine strolled down the corridors light-headed from the sordid encounter. He threw open the doors of the banquet hall, now rowdy and drunken, and made his way to Percival. The poor knight nearly choked on his drink seeing his fiance swaggering through the crowds with an exhausted smile, tangled hair and, indeed, the prominent bulge in his trousers. Percival didn’t hear any of the conversations from the knights as Gwaine got closer, trying to repress how aroused he was as Gwaine picked him up by the shirt collar and dragged him out of the room without a word. 

They barely got out of the hall before Gwaine pushed him against the wall, only stopped by Percy’s restraint, ‘Looks like you had fun.’

‘Oh, I did. I really did.’ Gwaine leaned his weight into Percy, letting out a soft moan at the slow grind of his hips, ‘So, just be completely clear, you’re okay with it?’

Percival bit his lip, his cheeks slightly flushed, ‘It’s really hot. I like the... ‘ he paused looking up with a nod, ‘Arthur.’

‘Percival… _Gwaine_.’ the young prince nodded back, trying to flatten down his hair.

‘Tell Merlin I say hi.’ Gwaine winked.

Gwaine couldn’t help himself and stuck his head back into the banquet to watch Arthur take his seat back at the table. He caught a glimpse of Merlin’s face sliding from confusion to a knowing shock. The last thing he saw before Percy pulled him away to the bedroom was Merlin’s eyes turn on him as Gwaine winked brashly, the warlock’s mouth dropped open, half in indignation, half in lustful curiosity; it was utterly delicious.


	51. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (8)

After the exploits of the night before, Gwaine woke up already exhausted. His legs and arms ached from the strain as he wrapped his body over Percivals with a contented sigh. Percy drew him closer, the warmth of his body sending Gwaine back to sleep, before a knock at the door.

‘Percival?’

The knight groaned and, placing a kiss on his fiance’s forehead, reluctantly got out of bed, ‘One minute.’ Gwaine lazily watched with one eye as he pulled his clothes on before opening the door, ‘Merlin! How are you?’ and the door gently shut.

Gwaine rubbed his eyes and got up; he wasn’t sure what time it was but there was probably something he had to do today, some patrol or duty, so he thought he may as well get ready. He yawned as he staggered to light the fire, tossing an apple up in the air before taking a bite in triumph.

_Merlin, stop it._

Gwaine turned at the faint words outside the chamber door.

_I’m not...This isn’t what I want._

With a furrowed brow Gwaine tip-toed to the door, peaking through the tiny opening to see Percival’s hand on Merlin’s chest, gently pushing away.

‘What?’ Merlin laughed in a soft whisper, ‘If you’re letting Gwaine play away, why can’t you?’

Percival rolled his shoulders trying to muscle through the awkwardness, ‘I don’t want to be with anyone else. I like you, Merl, I really do, but…’

‘But you just like to watch?’ Merlin raised his eyebrow, ‘Well, I’m fine with that too.’ he began to make his way to the chamber door, Gwaine flattening himself against the wall not to be seen, when Percy grabbed him by the arm.

‘No. Merlin… You and Gwaine have history, I’m not comfortable with it.’

After a moment, Merlin relaxed free of Percival’s grip, ‘Okay. I understand; I got the wrong end of the stick. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Percival.’

‘It’s alright. It is a weird situation. We’re good though, yeah?’

‘Of course.’ Merlin smiled and began walking away, ‘See you later.’

Percy crept back through the door, turning to Gwaine wide-eyed, ‘Did you…’

‘Yep.’

Percy let out a sigh, ‘I...urm…’

‘I get it, don’t worry.’ Gwaine put his hands on his shoulders reassuringly, ‘You didn’t have to say Merlin is off limits because I could have guessed that; I’m not going to...with him.’ he went back to his apple, ‘Although I am surprised. Do you really not want to with anyone else? I mean, I’m okay with it if you do.’

He sat down on the bed next to Gwaine, ‘I don’t know. I mean, to be honest, yesterday was a bit of a gamble, but I really liked it. But I liked it because you came to me afterwards. I don’t know if I’d want to be the one sneaking off with someone.’

‘Not even Elyan?’

Percival’s jaw dropped open, ‘I...I… It was one time! It was before we were, you know… _courting_.’

Gwaine fell back down on the bed laughing, ‘Ahh yes, the gentleman you were, courting me for months, flowers at the door. If you’d have told me back then that sweet, gentle Sir Percival would be getting off on me fucking the prince in the servants quarters, I wouldn’t have believed you.’

Percival suddenly pinned Gwaine down on the bed into a kiss, ‘Well, I’m full of surprises, me.’

‘Percy, Percy, wait.’ he pushed his face away, ‘I know I’m pretty insatiable, but I did three rounds last night; I need to rest.’

‘Oh my god. I’ve done it. I’ve finally worn you out. Well done me.’

Gwaine scoffed at him, ‘Oh no. You had to make it a challenge, didn’t you?’

Needless to say, they were both late for training that morning...again.


	52. A Locked Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eight (9)

‘You’re all useless.’ Arthur huffed as he stabbed his sword into the ground, ‘The only one who made it here on time was Elyan, and that’s only because he was passed out in the grass from last night. And where the hell is Leon? He’s never late.’

‘Last I saw of him, he was talking with some of the Druid representatives.’ Lance chipped in, blocking his aching eyes from the sun.

‘Well, he might be late but at least he was on the job last night.’

‘Just like you then.’ Lance muttered.

‘Something you care to share, Lancelot?’

He cleared his throat, ‘No, no. Not at all.’

‘Right. Well… We’re going to start with some refreshers on footwork and then…’ he took in the sight of the knights holding their heads with hangovers and Gwaine struggling to stand up from the night before, ‘Oh bugger it you’re all too hungover. Just make yourselves look presentable before we go back into negotiations. I need you all there and at your best.’

They were all gladly making their way back to the castle when Merlin came rushing towards them, ‘Have you seen Leon? He’s meant to be leading the negotiations about border protections in an hour and no one has seen him. We were meant to refining the proposals together right now.’

‘Is he not in his chambers?’ asked Percival.

‘They’re locked. He does that when he’s out.’

Gwaine chuckled to himself, ‘Well we best go check anyway.’

‘B...but we don’t have a key.’

‘No,’ Gwaine smirked over his shoulder, ‘But we do have a Percival.’

He pressed his ear to the door, ‘I can’t hear anything. Maybe he really is out. Leon likes his privacy; I don’t want to invade his space. I’ll feel bad breaking his door.’

‘Of course. Of course. I forget you just look strong but are actually weak as hell.’

Percival flexed his shoulders, ‘Excuse me?’

Merlin couldn’t help but titter along, ‘I see what you mean. It’s all bark, no bite, right, Gwaine?’

‘Completely. He’s the one asking me to open jars half the time. As if he could kick down a door. I’m sorry, farm boy,’ Gwaine moved closer to give him a patronising hug, ‘Naw. My fragile little fiance.’

Percy picked Gwaine up by the waist and moved him out the way, ‘I hate you all.’ with a standing kick the door flew open, Percival looking rather pleased with himself that he managed to dislodge the entire lock and make it fly across the floor, 'How's that for _weak_ , little man?' his whispered, smiling at the faint whimper from his fiance.

Leon came around to the door with a start, draped in a sheet, ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘We’ve got your negotiation starting in forty minutes! What have you been doing all…’

‘Just give me five minutes, Jesus, you could’ve just knocked!’

‘I did, there was no answer!’ Merlin retorted, as he began to step into the room, ‘Give me the documents and I can get…’

‘No don’t go…’

‘Oh.’ Merlin stopped dead in his tracks, stunned into silence. He turned back to Leon, ‘Right. My apologies...everyone.’ and slunk out with a small bow.

Before anyone could stop him, Gwaine stuck his nose through, ‘Arthur was right. You really were on the job last night...Right, Perce, let’s go get ready.’

‘What was…’ Gwaine pulled Percy out of earshot, ‘What was in there?’

‘Oh, you know, just two druid dignitaries and a bottle of rum.’

Arthur came around the corner adjusting his cloak, ‘Is Leon ready?’

Gwaine clapped a hand over Percy’s mouth, ‘He’s just in his chambers, you should go in there, I think he wanted a quick word.’

‘Thanks, Gwaine.’

They listened to his footsteps down the hall, the creak of the door hinges, ‘Leon, is everything oh my god I am so sorry!.’

Percival had to scoop Gwaine up off the floor he was laughing so hard, parading him past the prince as he shook his head, _sorry_ he mouthed. But, as soon as they were out of sight, Percy couldn’t help but grin ear to ear at the grown man giggling in his arms.

‘Come on, it was funny!’ Gwaine defended, arm slung around Percy’s neck.

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘And we both know that’s code for _I love you but don’t want to admit Gwaine’s right_. Now put me down.

‘No.’

‘I need to go get rea…’

‘No, I’m going to carry you into the negotiations as punishment for humiliating Leon.’


	53. To Be Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (1)

The peace talks between the court of Camelot and the druids marked what many hoped would be a new age of peace. As Arthur took his seat, the elected representative of the druids, High Priestess Catraoine, took hers. Her hair crowned her features in a raven black halo with three milk thistle flowers pinned as an amethyst garland; the same astonishing tone of her piercing eyes. Every night since the talks began, Catraione could be seen from the balconies addressing her people, eagerly taking notes of their concerns and criticisms before reporting back the thoughts of the collective. It was a way of governing Arthur was alien to but respected all the same, despite how drawn out it would make the negotiations of peace.

After an hour or so of Leon outlining the plans, making small lapses in information as the room began to realise he and Catraoine had discussed them at length last night, in between the sips of rum and passing company, she carefully gave one last look over the documents.

‘That all seems agreeable.’ nodded Catraoine from the far end of the table, ‘Of course, we will have to take it to discussion with the people tonight.’

‘Of course, my lady, take whatever time you need. We are happy to make concessions where needed.’ Arthur smiled before taking a triumphant sip from his goblet.

‘There is an issue I would like to raise with this delegation, however.’ she began with a swift sweep of the documents to one side, ‘One which I fear cannot wait.’

The prince gestured for her to continue, eager to listen.

‘’You will forgive Sir Leon for his indiscretion in telling me so, but I have come to learn of your plan to stop Morgana.’

Arthur gave a small laugh, ‘Sir Leon is indeed forgiven as those plans were not secret.’ he caught himself, ‘As there should be no secrets between allies.’ Catraoine gave an appreciative nod before he continued, ‘Since my Uncle Agravine departed and revealed himself to be a traitor, we have reason to believe an attack is imminent and thus the strongest action must be taken to prevent my sister's reign of tyranny from reaching the throne. If we are successful, I hope the Druid people will help in this endeavour to see a _peaceful_ magic return …’

With the silent raise of her hand, Catraoine brought the room to a pin drop silence, ‘Arthur, I shall speak as plainly and respectfully as I can.’ Catraoine swallowed, clasping her hands in front of the table, ‘We do not agree with what Morgana has done. But we will not participate in her execution, only her rehabilitation. She is not to be wholly blamed for her actions.’

‘Are you suggesting her actions have been the result of some enchantment?’

‘I mean to say, Morgana was not born violent. She was made that way. By your father. By his tyranny.’

Arthur was rigid with anger, trying desperately to keep his head, ‘You are talking about your king.’

‘We have no kings.’ Catraoine met his gaze steadily, ‘Your father is just a man and Morgana was put in an impossible position. Imagine finding out you are the one thing everyone you love despises. Imagine her terror.’

The room was stunned into silence. The knights sat uncomfortably, caught between loyalty for the Prince and their sympathies for magic. Only Leon managed to keep composure, perhaps having already known this conversation was going to happen. Gwaine looked over to see Merlin, his eyes down at the table, composing himself to speak.

‘She’s right.’ Merlin’s voice fell like led on the congregation.

Arthur turned slowly, his lips tight, ‘How can you say that?’ he hissed.

Merlin steeled himself, ‘Morgana has been through unspeakable pain…’

Arthur’s voice rose,‘She has _caused_ unspeakable pain.’ 

‘As did your father!’ Merlin roared, the stunned look in the Prince’s face giving him pause to lower his voice, ‘If the druids asked for your father's head in return for peace, would you agree?’

The air was tense. Arthur couldn't take his angry gaze off of Merlin, unable to answer truthfully.

Turning his gaze back to the druids, Merlin continued, ‘Catraoine. If I may ask, how many of your family did you lose to Uther’s ban on magic.’

The druid didn’t flinch, ‘All.’ she answered calmly, ‘I watched my mother burn. My father slit with blades. My son...he was but a baby when Uther ordered he be drowned in the well. I could not save him’ she got to her feet, leaning forward on her fingertips, ‘If you had lost so much, young prince, I would not blame you for seeking vengeance. So do not blame Morgana, for none of us choose magic, and none of us chose to be persecuted. I shall give you time to think it over, but my people will not compromise on this. The witch lives.’ and with a sweep of her dress, the click of her shoes vanished into the belly of the castle.

‘Everyone out.’ Arthur ordered, grabbing Merlin’s cuff before he could leave.

Gwaine had never seen Arthur look so furious and Merlin, his face riddled with worry, was in a dangerous position. It had been he that encouraged Arthur to seek peace, to see some return to magic, but Arthur still did not know of his husband's true nature. The knight waited by the doors, Percy on the other side as backup, to protect Merlin from the Prince’s bubbling rage.

‘You are my husband, Merlin.’ the prince began flatly, ‘You are meant to back me up.’

‘As your _servant_ that was my job. As your husband we are equals and I will not let you do this.’

The sound of a chair being scraped back rang out as Arthur got to his feet, ‘Morgana has killed so many. To let her live means she would be allowed to continue her horrific plays for power.’ the table creaked as he sat on the edge in front of Merlin, ‘I am seeking peace because of you, my love, but you know I still do not trust magic. The druids are peaceful and as long as they remain so they can be free but the moment they…’

‘What if it was me?’

Gwaine tensed with only the cautious arm of Percival stopping him from flinging the doors open.

‘What if I had magic? Would you banish me? Beat me? Try to kill me?’ now Merlin got to his feet, looming down on his husband, ‘If you did that, could you blame me for seeking revenge? Because that is all Morgana has done. Everyone, even her own brother, pushed her away and into the arms of extremists. You will not achieve peace by spilling her blood. All you will do is lose me.’

‘Merlin, I would never… I would _never_ abandon you. I love you more than anything.’

There was a choked sob in Merlin’s voice, ‘And I am sure Morgana believed that too, before you abandoned her.’

Gwaine didn’t register Merlin leaving, stunned into numbness by those last words. Percy gently took his shoulder, bringing him back into reality.

‘I’ll talk to Arthur. You need to check on Merlin.’

With a silent nod, Percy slipped into the room and Gwaine began following the quiet click-clack of Merlin’s shoes. But he didn’t need to, because he knew there was only one place the deity would go.


	54. The Forgotten Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (2)

As he followed through the bejewelled doors, Gwaine saw nothing had changed in all that time. The walls were still adorned with intricate tapestries, his boots sank into the soft fur of the rugs and the silver gilded cabinets and chairs sparkled lightly in his eyes. Even Merlin, who had climbed from servant to regent, was in the same hiding as he had been before.

‘Do you remember?’ he whispered.

Gwaine smiled sadly, ‘As if I would ever forget, my lo… _Merlin_.’

The weak sunlight spilt like wine over the snow-white skin of the warlock. He breathed deeply before uttering his words small, and tentative, ‘I remember you telling me these might be my quarters one day.’ he slid a finger across the dust of the windowpane, ‘I was a fool to ever dream.’

Gwaine brought the door to a close behind him, ‘You are making things change right now. The fact the druids are even here, Merlin, this is all your doing and it’s wonderful. And you’re right about Morgana. I don’t know if I can ever _forgive_ her for what she has done, but I certainly couldn’t stand by and let her be killed.’

‘I am also right about his abandoning her.’ a sad laugh escaped Merlin’s lips as he finally turned to face Gwaine, ‘You never met her before it all went wrong. She was so kind. Could light up the room. And my god, the way she stood up to Uther; I had never seen that supposedly great warrior so terrified. Arthur would have died for her and she the same. I thought…’ Gwaine could see Merlin wanted to cry, but the new prince found himself too numb, too detached, to summon a sob, ‘I thought peace with the druids would change things. It seems it will not.’

With a huff Gwaine walked over and took Merlin by the shoulders, ‘You need to stop this. Things _will_ change and Arthur will stand by you. All the knights already do, Merlin, it’s just none of us are as brave as you. But we will try to do better and back you to the hilt.’

Merlin’s eyes swam into Gwaine’s gaze, ‘But he won’t.’ he muttered, ‘Arthur will never forgive me.’

‘There is nothing to forgive you for.’

‘I lied.’

‘You saved his life a million times and didn’t want to be burned at the stake; I think he will understand that, and if he doesn’t then I’ll…’

‘What? What will you do?’ there was an unexpected longing in Merlin’s voice.

‘Then...I’ll…’ Gwaine stammered to collect himself, ‘Then I will beat some sense into him until he does.’

A shameful disappointment shrugged from Merlin’s shoulders, ‘Is it awful I was hoping you’d say you’d take…’

A soft knock came at the door stopping Merlin’s near confession. The pair looked at each other confused. Who would possibly be visiting the Sorcerer's Quarters, let alone know they were in there?

‘Prince Merlin. Sir Gwaine. Forgive my intrusion.’ Catraoine stepped in, her smile sweet with sympathy.

‘Please, come in.’ Merlin gathered himself and Gwaine took a step back.

The druid cast her gold eyes over the room and the dust was washed away and the fires lit, ‘I want to thank you...May I use your real name?’ she glanced at a baffled Gwaine before Merlin gave a small nod, ‘You did a brave thing today, Emrys, and my people thank you for it. I believe the prince can be talked around.’

‘Emrys?’ Gwaine questioned.

‘It is how he is known to us in the prophecies, sir knight. How he has always been known to our people. But let’s dispense with the formalities of negotiation for a moment.’ Catraoine took a seat and carefully plucked the flowers from her hair one by one, ‘You need to tell Arthur, or no peace can last.’ she raised a hand to stop Merlin’s protests before they began, her ability to control a room leaving Gwaine in awe, ‘The Pendragon is destined to embrace magic back into the fold, and it is nothing short of his love for you, Emrys, that can bring this to be. This is what the druids know to be true and why we are here. These peace talks will not see those with magic free, and certainly will not change to attitudes of the majority, but the relaxation of the law will at least curb our persecution until more can be done. Until you come clean, as it were. That’s the end game here’

Merlin took a seat as Catraoine, with a flick of her eyes, drew the empty jug on the table towards her and filled it with wine.

‘You...you can just summon wine?’ Gwaine was astounded.

‘Why do you think I practice magic? If I can’t summon wine, what’s the point?’ she laughed, ‘Do grab us some goblets, petal.’

‘I like her.’ Gwaine smiled as he retrieved some silver glasses to the table, pleased that even the forlorn Merlin gave a scoff, ‘Why don’t you ever do that Merlin? You could have saved me a fortune at the tavern!’

Catraoine clicked her fingers and the wine turned to ale in Gwaine’s cup, ‘My kind of man.’

‘I heard that was Leon.’ he winked back.

‘Gwaine!’ Merlin snapped over his wine, ‘I am so sorry…’

‘It’s fine! I personally find it hilarious how inhibited you all are. And that it took you all a week to realise, my lord.’

A mischievous grin began pricking at the edges of Merlin’s lips, ‘So, Leon...If I can ask, how...urm…’

‘He’s a rare talent and I’ll thank you to not tell him I said so.’ she turned to Gwaine, ‘You know how it is. The moment some men get a compliment they stop trying so hard.’

They all fell about laughing and, for a few moments, Merlin seemed to lose himself in happiness before it all came crashing back.

‘I shall leave you now.’ Catraoine got up and walked over to Merlin, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, ‘I can’t possibly know the burden you bear, Emrys, but we stand with you. Should you need guidance or just to talk, I shall be staying at our camp in the south of the woods. You are always welcome.’

Merlin could only mouth the words thank you as Catraoine placed a kiss on his forehead and made for the door, ‘And Gwaine, do feel free to drop by for a drink.’

‘I shall!’ he raised his glass, ‘And do tell Leon I say hello!’

She scowled mockingly back at him, ‘If Leon’s lucky enough to join me again, I shall.’

Gwaine scoffed and watched fondly as the doors shut with a whisper of her magic before delicately turning back to the table, ‘What are you going to do, Merlin?’

With forced confidence, Merlin snapped up the goblet and downed his wine, ‘For tonight, nothing. I'll just drink and think it over.’

‘Well, I’ll let you get to your thinking then.’ Gwaine got up and started to walk away when Merlin rose to his feet.

‘Unless…’ he called out, ‘Unless you wanted to stay.’ Gwaine went to protest when Merlin cut back in, ‘As a friend. Of course.’

Gwaine took a few deep breaths, his eyes falling on the giant bed whose silken sheets looked as though they hadn’t been disturbed since their farewell embrace so long ago, ‘I can’t Merlin; I have duties tonight with the patrol. Besides… I’m weak, and so are you. So just friends only works in principle.’

‘Then goodnight, dear Gwaine.’

Gwaine took Merlin’s hand into his own with a soft bow, ‘Goodnight, my prince.’ and placed a tender kiss on his fingers.

As he walked away, Gwaine knew it was the right thing not to stay.

As he rode out on the evening patrol, he told himself it was the right call to leave.

As he held Percy at night, glad to be there in his arms, he was glad to have done the right thing.

But oh, how his dreams betrayed him.


	55. Please Believe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (3)

Gwaine awoke to find the castle in chaos. As he started awake, the corridors were filled with knights and soldiers racing to and fro, Percival rushing to get his armour on in the dawn light.

‘Percy, what’s…’

‘Report came in an hour ago. Morgana has attacked the outlying villages. It’s begun.’

Gwaine’s blood went cold as he threw off the bedsheets, clamouring through the drawers for his clothes, ‘Why didn’t you wake me? How long until we ride out?’

Percy didn’t turn around as he slid his sword into its scabbard, ‘You’re not coming.’ Gwaine stopped, half-dressed and confused. Percival moved to pull the door to a close for some privacy, ‘Arthur and Merlin still haven’t seen eye to eye on the issue of what to do with Morgana. He’s staying here and wants one of the knights to be with him, so I volunteered you.’

Gwaine rushed forward, ‘There is no way I’m letting you go into that battle alone. Don’t you dare. I’m coming with you and there’s nothing…’

Before he could finish, Percy had stolen his breath in a kiss. He pulled back reluctantly, resting his forehead on Gwaines, soft fingers stroking his messy hair, ‘I knew you’d say that, little man.’ But I just can’t bear to lose you.’

‘Well tough shit, I can’t bear to lose you either!’ Gwaine hugged him so tight the armour dug into his bare skin and hurt.

Percy let out a shaking whisper, ‘You started speaking in your sleep again.’

Gwaine held on to his fiance just as tight, preparing himself to face him, ‘They are dreams, Percival. Just dreams. I don’t remember the half of them and when I do, they don’t matter. It’s you.’ he kissed his forehead, ‘It’s just you, farm boy.’

With his hand falling softly from Gwaine’s hair, Percy gave a weak nod, ‘I know.’

‘You don’t sound convinced.’ Gwaine’s voice was flat before before he began climbing that steep hill of desperate frustration, ‘Please Percy. I’m trying, I’m trying _so hard_ to make you understand just how much I love you. I...I’m not choosing to have these dreams! I don’t want them! I hate them!’ Gwaine ripped himself out of Percival’s embrace and pulled on his hair, his eyes stinging, ‘I feel guilty every single second for what I put you through! Don’t...Don’t go out there without me just because you think I won’t care if you die because without you...without you…’ the mere thought brought Gwaine to his knees, ‘...dear god without you, what’s the point?’

It was only when he finally looked up he saw the stream of tears down Percival’s face, ‘I’m sorry…’ he murmured, shaking, before crouching down to hold Gwaine, ‘I shouldn’t keep punishing you for it...You’re right, you...you can’t control your dreams.’ he wrapped his arms around Gwaine, the guilt overwhelming him.

‘I can’t Percy, I can’t…’ Gwaine sobbed in his shoulder, ‘Please believe me. I’m begging you. Don’t go.’

He swallowed, ‘I have to. And I will be okay, Gwaine, I will. Who’s going to win in a fight against me?’

‘That is true.’ he let out a sad laugh, before calming himself down, ‘I will wait two nights, and if I haven’t had word back that you are safe, I am coming to find you. Because I’ll be damned if you’re going to leave this world as anything less than my husband.’

Percival’s smile spread across his face with such an innocent joy Gwaine could hardly take it in; for the first time since they got back from the Isle of the Blessed, it seemed Percy finally believed him.

‘The moment you are back. The very second, that’s when I’m marrying you.’ Gwaine held his face in his hands, eyes not breaking their gaze in his sincerity, ‘I don’t want the big ceremony they think we should have. Screw it. I just want you.’

In what felt like mere seconds, Gwaine was stood on the steps of the castle clad in nothing but his nightclothes waving goodbye to the man he truly loved. Far above him, on the royal balcony, Merlin waved too, before stopping. Before faltering. Before his gaze drifted, as it always inevitably did, from the prince to the knight.


	56. The Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (4)

‘Thank you. Really, thank you.’ Gwaine handed the rider a bag of gold pieces as he departed to rejoin the camp. Percival had sent him back to report he and the rest of the army were safe, having set up camp one league away from the last attack. Gwaine’s heart had swelled with relief when he heard and grew lightheaded. He stood on the steps in the last ebbs of the evening air with his hand clasped over Percy’s sigil.

‘Excuse me, sir Gwaine?’ a young serving boy tentatively came up behind him, ‘Prince Merlin has asked to see you.’

‘Of course, where is he?’

‘Urm…’ the young boy faltered, ‘He just said you would know where. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, sir.’

Gwaine sighed with a smile, ‘I know where he means, don’t worry. Thank you, Robin, isn’t it?’

‘Yes sir, thank you sir.’ the young lad ran down the steps towards one of the older servants making his way to the laundry, ‘Did you hear that? Sir Gwaine knows my name!’

Gwaine couldn’t help grinning to himself at the sweet sight, but his smile soon left as he found himself once again climbing the steps to the sorcerer's quarters.

‘Close the door will you.’ Merlin said without turning, pouring himself what was clearly not his first glass of wine, ‘I saw there was a rider; is there news?’

Gwaine didn’t move from the door, ‘They are all safe and camped for the night. I’ve asked the rider to come back tomorrow with more news, even if it is just more of the same. All is well it seems.’

Merlin gestured for Gwaine to take a seat. Gwaine shifted uncomfortably; he didn’t want to offend, but it wasn’t a good idea. Not then, not in there.

‘Something troubling you?’ the words slurred slightly against his lips as he strolled towards Gwaine, placing his now empty goblet on the table, ‘You can talk to me if you want.’ he reached out to stroke Gwaine’s face to find him unreceptive, ‘Come sit.’

The young prince swerved around and gently fell into the chair, his emerald robes swishing gracefully around his figure. He took another glass to his mouth, peering over the top as Gwaine reluctantly took a seat.

He watched as the jug of wine decanted it’s liquid into the goblet nearest him, his eyes flicking up the catch the golden smirk of Merlin.

‘Cheers.’

‘Yeah. Cheers.’ Gwaine took a long sip before leaning forward on his knees.

‘So, come on then, what’s wrong?’

‘Difficult day. Just worried about Percy.’

Merlin twisted the edge of his ornate cloak between prying fingers, ‘All okay there?’

Gwaine weighed the thoughts in his mind. It would be strange, talking with Merlin about it, but they could at least _try_ to be friends.

‘It’s urm...We’ve just been working through some things and…’ Gwaine didn’t wait to pour himself another glass, ‘We’ve had our issues since, you know and last night I, urm… I talk in my sleep. Haven’t for a while, but these dreams have come back recently and…’

‘Sorry about that.’

‘And…’ Gwaine’s heart stopped, ‘ _What did you say_?’

Merlin paused mid-sip, ‘Nothing. Just...sorry to hear about…’

Gwaine rushed to his feet, words failing as Merlin held his gaze. 

A small smile beginning to get the better of Merlin, ‘I...It’s just a bit of fun, Gwaine.’ he laid back easily in his chair, ‘Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy them. I certainly do.'

It took a good few seconds before Merlin realised Gwaine wasn’t laughing along. In fact, the knight was seething.

‘Gwaine, calm down, I didn’t…’

‘How could you.’ Gwaine could taste the venom of his words, ‘How _dare_ you, Merlin.’

Merlin got to his feet, gulping down the last of his wine with haste before backpedalling as fast as he could, ‘I’m sorry Gwaine, I didn’t think it was a big deal, I thought…’

‘Not a big deal!’ his face raged red, ‘Do you have the tiniest idea of the pain you’ve put me through? Every damn night living through these sordid fantasies, waking up hating myself for betraying Percy in my sleep! And Percival, you never saw his face after! How he tries not to cry after I’ve whispered your name all fucking night!’ he could barely breathe through the rising hatred. The young man he’d been willing to die for, playing with his heart like a toy, ‘Christ I feel sorry for Arthur.’

Merlin smoothed down his clothes, teeth sinking into his lip, ‘That was low.’

With a sudden burst of resentment, Gwaine sent the chair in front of him flying across the floor, tears blurring his vision as he screamed, ‘I shattered my own heart so you could have a life with Arthur! I wanted to die seeing you in the arms of another! And finally, somehow, I get a second chance with Percy, and you, you, you can’t even let me have that! You greedy, selfish, monster!’

‘I never wanted you to leave!’ Merlin shouted back, his own voice crackling with pain, ‘I loved you both! Okay? I don’t know how to live with it but I did and I do and…’

‘I don’t care! We missed our chance, Merlin! We missed it!’ Gwaine rushed forward, his fist clenched as if to strike, ‘How could you treat me this way?’

He stopped short of a hit. The two of them, mere inches apart. Both bristled with rage. With pain. Merlin’s face twisted, as though angry at his own sadness, twitching and shuddering. He reached out to Gwaine, his lips soft and desperate.

‘Get. Off. Me.’

Merlin slowly recoiled.

‘I am leaving to join the camp. I’ll send extra guards to you up here.’

Merlin stepped forward before Gwaine could race away, ‘But what about your duty? You promised to protect me!’

Gwaine turned slowly, his head shaking in a tired exasperation, ‘Quite frankly, dear Merlin, I don’t give a damn about you anymore.’


	57. Adonis, Knight, Monarch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (5)

It was three in the morning by the time Gwaine arrived at the camp. He jumped off his horse without even a thought of tying it up and made his way for the tents.

‘Gwaine! I thought you were…’

‘Where’s Percy?’ his voice was flat, his eyes focusing straight in front of him.

‘He’s urm…’ Elyan paused for a moment, ‘Well, he’s with Arthur. The royal tent.’

Gwaine paused, knowing what the tone in Elyan’s voice was trying to imply, ‘Good.’ and he stormed towards the tent.

He threw open the entrance and grabbed a startled Percival into a passionate kiss. Then he turned to Arthur, stood stock still with two glasses of wine and his shirt undone. The goblets clattered onto the floor and Gwaine pulled him in by the belt to kiss him too, reaching back one hand to roughly draw Percival's body into the fray.

His fiance let out a soft moan, echoed by the Prince before the three of them looked between each other, a silent agreement passing between them. Arthur dashed to the tent's entrance, fasting it shut as quickly as he could while Percival, heady with anticipation, threw the luggage from the bed. Gwaine ran a hand through his hair, breathing hard, until the prince rushed into him, the kiss exhilarating the two in stumbling back onto the bed. Gwaine fell on his back, Arthur hungrily kissing down his body as Percival pulled off his shirt, pushing his muscular frame against the two of them. His body was igniting with the sensation of four hands greedily grabbing at his flesh. Gwaine flung his head back as one of the hands grasped his cock, stroking eagerly, furiously. When he finally controlled the convulsions of pleasure enough to look up, he saw the slip of Percival’s tongue into Arthur's mouth. The view of their two monumental bodies writhing above him, against him, awoke a burning lust to surge through his body. He reached out, propping himself up on his elbow to pull Percy into a kiss, his hand finding Arthur’s hard on, pulsing to the touch. The two men slithered down either side of Gwaine, the knight turning between burning kisses and electrified nails down his back. He found himself facing Percy as Arthur pushed inside him, his fiance melting at the sight of Gwaine in such bliss. Percival reached over, pushing the two bodies into his own by the small of Arthur’s back. Gwaine groaned as Arthur forced deeper inside him, the double thrill of Percival's warm mouth suddenly swallowing down on his cock taking him to the edge before his fiance’s eyes looked up teasingly, not letting him have sweet relief just yet. One hand pushed down on Percival’s head, his fingers raking through the short crop of hair, while his other reached back, nails digging into the Prince’s neck as he kissed him. As Percy went for air, Arthur pulled Gwaine around onto his knees, angling himself to get deeper still. Percy quickly sat up before both his arms were pumping Gwaine’s head up and down on his dick, stealing glances at the sweat dripping from Arthur’s chest as he watched his lover get used in all the ways he craved. Arthur spanked Gwaine in rapid succession until he felt the warm cum burst inside him, the prince shaking in the aftershocks as Gwaine pushed back, rocking himself into Arthur's firm grip. With tears streaming down his face and one last thrust from Percival’s thick thighs, Gwaine swallowed his cum down, shuddering with the thunder of his own orgasm.

The three of them lay, panting and exhausted, on the bed. Percy began to softly laugh. Then Arthur. Before they could help it the three of them were in hysterics, giggling until their stomachs hurt as Percy pulled the blankets up over them. Gwaine fell onto Arthur’s chest while Percival snuggled into his back, one arm over the two of them to hold Arthur’s hand. They all fell asleep smiling.

…

Gwaine woke up first and placed a kiss on the two men's heads before he went to get dressed. The night before had been blissful, but the pain in his chest from what he’d learned about Merlin was a fresh wound stung with salt. 

As he stood looking at the sunrise through the tent entrance, Percival wrapped his arms around him.

‘I need to tell you something Percy.’ Gwaine turned around with a whisper, ‘But you cannot tell Arthur.’

The pair glanced over to see the prince fast asleep still, and Percy nodded, stooping his head down to hear.

‘The dreams...the dream I have. I found out it was Merlin. He was using his magic to…’ Percival’s eyes widened, jaw slack, as his hand slipped slightly from Gwaine’s waist, ‘He was drunk last night, he let it slip that he’s the one who’s been making it happen. And it’ll break Arthur’s heart so don’t…’

‘I won’t. Of course, I won’t say anything.’ Percy stroked a hand across Gwaine's cheek, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Gwaine looked into crystalline blue eyes, ‘I’m angry. But relieved. I hated the idea that some part of me still...but I don’t.’ he bit his lip as he looked to the floor.

‘What is it?’

Gwaine’s lip trembled, ‘If he can do that, Percy. If he can make me dream those things then...how do I know any of it was ever real?’

The birds sang with the dawn light ahead, casting an amber glow on Gwaine’s hair as he turned to look. Percival was astounded by his beauty. ‘It was real for you, and that’s enough.’ he pressed a kiss into Gwaine’s hair, ‘I’m so sorry he did this to you. And I’m so sorry I made you feel guilty for it.’

‘You, my darling farm boy, must never apologise for anything in this world.’

‘Back to bed?’

Gwaine smiled, ‘Oh. Most definitely.’

The pair slipped under the covers and pinned Arthur between them in a tender embrace. As Gwaine fell back to sleep, he hoped the prince knew they, at least, loved him.


	58. Four Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (6)

An hour later and Arthur rolled over into Gwaine’s arms, half-awake, ‘Morning.’

Gwaine smiled, ‘Morning sunshine.’

‘Sunshine?’ Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a chuckle, ‘I think I quite like that.’ he brushed the hair away from Gwaine’s face, ‘I never got the chance to ask last night. Why did you ride out? Is Merlin okay?’

He couldn’t help but tense, his eyes shying away from Arthurs, ‘He is fine. Just, um… I didn’t like being away.’

He was stopped by Arthur’s hand pulling him back with a concerned gaze, ‘Is something wrong? You know you don't have to feel guilty about… _all this_. Percival's fine with it and Merlin wanted us to have an open relationship so, if that’s what’s bothering you then…’

‘It’s not that, I...’ he took a breath and put on his signature smile, no matter how much effort it cost him, ‘We have a battle to prepare for, now isn’t the time. Come on.’

Arthur went to get up when he was suddenly pulled deep under the covers by Percy, still snoring and nuzzling in, ‘Um, Gwaine… a little help.’

‘Ahh, he always does that in the morning.’ Gwaine laughed as he pulled on his trousers, ‘You’ve got no chance, Princess.’

Leaving the tent into the cool morning air, the camp was slowly starting to wake up. Across from him, a hand reached up and waved from a small fire at the forest's edge, beckoning him over.

Catraoine got to her feet and hugged Gwaine close, her arms enveloping him with a maternal familiarity, ‘Drink, petal?’

‘I've only just woken up.’ Gwaine scoffed as he perched on the tree stump next to her.

‘It’s tea, you drunkard.’ inhaling deeply, Catraoine took a sip of the sweet brew, ‘Good night? Oh, don’t blush dear. It might be a bit taboo where you’re from but multiple partners is common to the druids. Perhaps you’re secretly one of us.’ she gave him a playful nudge.

‘Sometimes I wish I was. I used to travel around, different people, different places...It was nice and simple back then.’

‘Oh, life is never simple, Gwaine. We just pick and choose what we remember. Besides, if you were still on the road,’ she lifted her mug up to the view behind him, ‘then you never would have found that wonderful man over there….Wait, what’s he…’

As Gwaine turned, he saw Percival advancing, his muscles tense as Arthur dashed after him, calling out some question. It was only when Gwaine followed his direction, he realised what was about to happen.

With a shout, Merlin was thrown from his horse into the dirt. Gwaine ran, but Percival was already bearing down him, his fists clenched around his collar.

‘Percival! What the hell are you doing?’ Arthur shouted, desperately trying to free his husband, but with one slam from the giants hand was stumbling backwards.

Merlin cried out in pain as the knight slammed his head into the dirt once more.

‘Percy. Stop it. Please.’ Gwaine could barely breathe, ‘Percival!’

But the man was so blinded by rage he didn’t hear a thing, ‘How dare you show your face here after what you did!’ he shook Merlin like a rag doll sending the blood from his bludgeoning across this face, ‘How could you do that to him! How fucking could you!’

Arthur drew his sword, ‘Touch him again and you die.’ he seethed.

Percival barred his teeth, air wrenched through his lungs, ‘You deserve so much better, Arthur. Better than this fucking scum!’ Percival raised his fist only to be caught by Gwaine before the strike. 

Arthur’s sword dropped as he saw Gwaine. The knight looked terrified, almost hiding behind Percy with tears flecking his face. Slowly, Arthur reached down to help Merlin to his feet, ‘What is going on? Why have you done this?’ Arthur whispered, the sudden appearance of Gwaine last night and his husband's bruised face becoming pieces of a truth he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

 _Don’t. Percy. Please. Let’s just go. Don’t say anything, don’t. please._ Gwaine mouthed, his eyes unable to lookup.

Anger was beginning to rise in the young prince at the silence, ‘Why did you attack Merlin? He has never wronged you, are you out of your mind!’

‘You have no clue do you, Arthur? Tell him, Merlin. Go on! Tell him about what you did to Gwaine! Tell him about all the fucking dreams you planted in his head! Tell him about every night for months how you forced your vile fantasies into his head!’

The prince pushed Merlin behind him, ‘Calm down, Percival. You’re not making sense.’

‘Ever since he returned. Almost every single night Gwaine has had to endure those dreams. Crying out Merlin’s name in his sleep. And I’ve spent so long thinking he didn’t love me and punishing him for it when it was all him! You’re precious little Merlin making him! Violating him!’

‘They are _dreams_ Percival! Merlin couldn't have made Gwaine You can't make someone dream unless you have ma…’ Arthur’s anger fell short. He closed his eyes, the grief already consuming him. His body now just a weight of led, he turned to his husband,’ Unless, you have… magic.’

Merlin didn’t react, too numb to process all that was happening. He’d pictured this moment for years. He'd seen himself slaine. Seen himself bawling. Seen himself screaming. But none of it, not even death itself, could as awful as the look of betrayal in Arthur’s eyes.

The prince took a tentative step towards Gwaine, ‘W...what dreams, Gwaine?’

‘I...I can’t I…’ he turned to Percy, biting back his pain, ‘Why did you have to say it? Why did you have to just go and fucking say it.’

Percy finally caught himself, ‘Gwaine, I’m sorry, I was just so…’

‘Get off me!’ he shuddered backwards, ‘Leave me alone. All of you.’

But his heart wasn’t the only one being broken, and Arthur was upon him, tears stinging his own eyes as he took Gwaine by the shoulders, ‘What dreams Gwaine?’

Shame ran through his body, what little strength he had pushed into meeting Arthur’s eyes, ‘Can’t you guess?’ and in the silence that followed, Gwaine began to walk away. He stopped only to bat his hand out, letting Percy know he wanted no company. 

He didn’t hear the birds sing. He didn’t see the sunrise. He only felt their four broken hearts shudder in his chest.

He reached the top of a high hill and fell into the grass, his body detached from his mind. Looking down, he saw Arthur and Percival embracing, the poor prince falling to his knees sobs, and Merlin, nowhere to be seen.

Gwaine scratched at his skin. He wanted to scrub it all out, but all he did was draw dirt and blood under his nails. How could he ever clean his mind of this hell?

‘Leave.’ 

Merlin had been soft in his approach and stopped dead at Gwaine faint words in the morning breeze.

‘Just. Leave.’

‘I want to explain…’

‘There is nothing to explain, Merlin.’ Gwaine kept his eyes fixed, knowing one look would crumble his defences, ‘You’ve done enough damage.’ he heard the faint bend of grass under Merlin’s weight as he sat down.

‘I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your time. I just...I want you to understand I didn’t...I didn’t set out to do this. I didn’t know it brought you pain and I tried to... ‘ he gathered himself, what was left of him anyway, ‘At the isle of the blessed, I realised it then. I had fallen in love with Arthur, that was true, but I also knew I had never fallen out of it with you, Gwaine. I thought, open marriage, maybe we could make it work...And then, If I couldn’t have you, maybe if Arthur did then I can feel closer, but it just hurt more, somehow… If I could be near Percy then it was closer still, but no… there’s no substitute.’ Merlin hung his head in his hands, ‘Gwaine. Please know, I didn’t have any idea the dreams were in your head too when I thought them up. It wasn’t until I overheard you and Percy talking I even realised you were living through them with me. But then…… knowing that...then it just felt so much more real. It felt like you were really there. I was weak. It spiralled out of control and I felt like I couldn’t stop. I’m...I’m so sorry.’

Gwaine leaned his head over his shoulder. His eyes didn’t meet Merlin, but his tone was steady and emotionless, ‘Do you remember that night in the forest? That first time?’ he saw Merlin faintly nod in the corner of his eye, ‘You lay there in my arms and shook like a leaf when you started the fire with your magic. And you were terrified I’d run. That I’d be scared of you. Hate you, even. And I thought to myself how can anyone hate magic when it is so divinely beautiful. How could anyone look at this man, this _perfect_ man, and feel anything other than the most profound love?’ Gwaine’s lip trembled, ‘But I know now. That man died somewhere. Because no matter how divine your gifts, Merlin, it doesn’t change your wretched soul.’


	59. We Are All Made Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (7)

Gwaine lay there for hours. He wasn’t sure when Merlin left or when the sun went down. He felt a kick to his side and started back to reality in the dusk. Leon stood over him, ‘Sorry Gwaine, but you need to come back.’

The knight sat up, his head foggy from the cascade of tainted memories that had played over and over, ‘Yeah. Of course, what’s urm...Sorry Leon, can’t get head straight.’

‘I know. I saw the whole thing.’ Leon knelt with a faint clatter of his amour, ‘Look. I’ll level with you. I can’t possibly know what you're going through, but we’ve had news of another attack being planned tomorrow. And Arthur… he’s a mess.’

‘A mess eh? Wouldn't know what that feels like.’ he scoffed as he got to his feet, ‘And Percival?’

Leon gave a sympathetic smile, ‘Feels awful about it. Don’t think I could ever get used to seeing a man that huge cry.’

‘And…’ Gwaine swallowed, suddenly finding his feet unsteady, ‘How is Merlin?’

‘No one has seen him.’

‘What? Have the search party not reported anything back?’

Leon took Gwaine's arm, gently beginning their walk back to camp, ‘There _isn’t_ one. Well, _officially_ there isn’t; I sent some men out on the sly but they aren’t back yet.' Leon shook his head fondly, 'You’re a better man than I.' he shrugged at Gwaine's confusion, I just mean...I’d want him dead.’

Gwaine didn’t ask him to, but he was grateful that Leon held his hand right up to the entrance of the tent. He pulled aside the curtain for Gwaine to duck through. At the sight, everyone rushed to their feet only to realise they had no idea what to say.

‘You gonna sit there staring all day or do you have a plan, princess?’ Gwaine strode in, patting Percival on the shoulder before he launched into an unneeded apology. He pressed his palm flat against the map on the table, ‘So, where’s the attack?’

The knot in Arthur’s chest started to untangle with Gwaine’s presence. His confidence might have been a sham, but he needed a distraction, ‘Our scouts have suggested they are going to approach the town of Westray from the east, going under the mountain pass. We should be able to cut them off here, here, and here, but it will spread our men thinly.’

‘Does that include the druids?’ Arthur shifted at Gwaines question, ‘Catraoine, what are your thoughts?’

The druid grinned at Gwaine, ‘Finally. I am consulted.’ she took her place next to Gwaine and examined the map, ‘With just soldiers, your approach is ideal. It would block them in and allow a swift victory. It’s smart. But I’m smarter.’ she was pleased the see the prince crack a grin, ‘The path Morgana’s forces are going to take will all lead them into one bottleneck at the east of Westray. If we meet them there, with smaller flanks to box them in.’

‘I appreciate your ambition, Catraonie, but we won’t be able to hold the _all_ there.’

‘You’re forgetting Arthur,’ Gwaine raised his eyebrows, ‘We have magic.’

‘Which neatly brings me to the matter at hand.’ Catraoine leaned on her knuckles, speaking matter of factly, ‘A lot has happened today and a lot needs to be discussed at length about magic in Camelot. The druids will fight by your side Arthur, but Morgana is taken alive. And, when the dust has settled we can…’

‘Alive.’ Arthur raised his hand, ‘No question. And, for that matter, aside from the casualties of war...no sorcerer is to be killed. Understood?’ The knights nodded, ‘Right, we ride at dawn to block them in the bottleneck. Everyone, go and rest.’

Catraoine gave Gwaine a gentle hug before she left, ‘We will talk Gwaine, after the battle.’

‘Thank you. But really, I’m okay, I…’

‘No.’ she cut in, low and serious, ‘There’s something you must know, but the time is not right.’

Stunned, Gwaine made to follow her, lightly grabbing her arm, ‘Catraoine, what is it?’

‘Hush, Petal.’ she kissed his quick on the forehead, ‘Not a moment too soon.’

He went to chase after her but Arthur called his name, and in his divided attention, the druid and her promise of knowledge vanished into the cold night air. Percy slipped out, still hunched over in regret, and took a seat just outside, leaving Gwaine and the prince alone.

‘You must think me a fool, Gwaine. Percy has told me everything about the, um...What Merlin did. He also mentioned that you all knew he was...has…’ he gave a defeated sigh and made his way to a small chest. Kicking it open with his heel, Arthur grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and tried to pull out the cork to no avail. 

Gwaine took it from him, biting the cork between his teeth to pull it free, spitting it to the far corner, ‘There’s a knack to it.’ he handed the bottle back and let his hand rest over Arthur’s, ‘And of course, I think you’re a fool; we are all made fools when we’re in love.’

Arthur raised the wine to his lips. He choked down a gulp before the bottle fell, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ he hurried to the floor to pick up the pieces when he found Gwaine suddenly holding him, ‘Can you stay? You and Percy, just...I don’t know where Merlin went and I’m so scared he’s going to get hurt out there.’

 _Me too_. The voice in Gwaine’s mind came in spite of himself. He ushered the prince to sit down, ‘Of course we will stay with you. Just give me a moment, sunshine.’

Gwaine peaked out to see Percy pacing pensively, ‘Hey farm-boy.’ Percival looked up, unable to utter a single word. Gwaine took his hands into his own, ‘Before you start, if it was the other way around, I would have done much worse so...you needn't give it another thought. Okay?’ the giant nodded, ‘I said we’d stay with Arthur tonight, if that’s alright, he just so…’

‘Yes. I...I want us to all be together tonight, too.’ he down with wistful longing and Gwaine led him into the tent.

Not another word was spoken that night. The three of them undressed in silence and rolled into the mutual embrace under that shroud of darkness. But each of them, in their own strange and sad way, felt the absence of Merlin like a hole in the heart.

And Merlin, miles away and bathed in moonlight, prepared for his final dawn.


	60. The Mountain on the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (8)

Before the light had flooded the mountain pass, the army of Camelot was halfway up to the bottleneck of Westray. The knights rode at the head, led by Arthur and Catraoine, in utter silence. Gwaine had ridden ahead, leaving a note on the table for Percy, in an attempt to evacuate the village as much as he could. He found the inhabitants to solemnly pick up what weapons they had to fight alongside; their bravery would humbling.

As dawn rose over the village, Gwaine watched as the land of Albion was cast a glow. Despite the high climb to Westray, the village still stood at the bottom of yet another mountain that steeply pierced the heavens. Craning his neck, he could barely see the summit, as narrow as needlepoint and haloed by the sun. According to the townsfolk, the pass was so steep and thin, it would take a single traveller two full days to complete the ascent safely, creeping slowly on the crumbling rock. It was a right of passage to many, claiming that from the top of the mountain on the mountain, one could see into Avalon itself. It was a sight to behold, and a worthy backdrop to the final stand against Morgana.

Gwaine watched with a heart of apprehension as the army approached, the three smaller brigades tearing off ready to box the enemy in. He got to his feet as he saw Percival’s horse trot towards him, lending a hand to help him down.

‘Have we heard anything…’ 

Percival shook his head before Gwaine could finish, ‘We have no idea where he is. We can only hope he’s safe at this point.’

Without a word, Gwaine helped Arthur down too. The prince was stoic as Gwaine pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, braced against the abject fear for his husband's safety. Catraoine and the other sorcerers gathered around the perimeter of the village, whispering spells on the make-shift weapons in the hope the townspeople would stand a chance.

The day pressed on and within three hours, the sky now clear and blue, no sign of Morgana’s forces were in sight. Pensive, Gwaine paced yet again to the edge of the mountain; for miles and miles, Albion lay still with not even a breath of wind to suggest the presence of life.

‘This doesn’t make sense.’ he called back, ‘We should have seen them by now; there’s no other way they could reach the village save that pass...Wait.’ he strode over to the gathering of knights, ‘Leon; who was the scout who told us of the attack?’

Leon rubbed his eyes, exhausted by the waiting, ‘I don’t know, Gwaine. We have thousands of men.’

‘But he _was_ one of the scouting party _you_ sent to find Merlin. You did recognise his face. Leon?’

Arthur drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword, ‘He was in our uniform.’

‘I think what Gwaine is getting at, is did _any_ of the original scout party return.’ Catraoine chimed in, ‘Because if they didn’t…’

The realisation dawned on them all at once. 

‘Westray isn’t the target.’ Arthur whispered before a rage overtook him and his shield clattered to the ground, ‘It's not the bloody target! She could be anywhere

‘I am so sorry, Arthur.’ the prince looked up to see Catraoine with fearful tears stinging her eyes, ‘I do not believe it is a place, Morgana will attack. But a person.’ she glanced at Gwaine, ‘And we have yet to find Prince Merlin.’

Arthur stumbled backwards as nausea rolled through his chest, ‘No. No. He never hurt her. He is kind.’ he buried his hands into tight knots over his hair, pulling his scalp, ‘She’s doing this to hurt me.’

‘There is much you do not yet know, Pendragon. But Merlin has been spoken of in the prophecies of my people for hundreds of years as Emrys. He is perhaps the most powerful sorcerer in all creation and this, this, is why Morgana would want him dead.’ she placed a hand on his shoulder, ‘If he is to live, we need to find him now.’

With a deep breath, Arthur steeled himself, opening his eyes as a cold commander of battle, ‘Leon. You are to take a quarter of our army and ride west. Percival, east. Elyan, North. Lancelot, you will ride back to…’

‘Why here?’ Arthurs decisive tone was cut short as Gwaine furrowed his brow, ‘Of all the places to lead us, why Westray? Why not further from Camelot? Why not spread our army thinner? Ten thousand men in a bottleneck and… Oh my god.’ he shuddered. His heart threw itself against the cage of his chest, ‘She wants us to watch.’

One by one, the knights of Camelot realised the sky had turned black. In the heavens, atop the mountain on the mountain, two figures stood. Morgana had reduced the army to mere voyeurs of the final stand.

One figure on that peak suspended in the clouds moved his gaze to the scene below him and Gwaine, for all the screaming and crying out, heard only one thing.

That faint voice, that familiar voice, tumbling into his mind.

_Goodbye, my love._


	61. Obsidian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (9)

‘Did you hear that?’ Arthur’s face dropped, ‘D...did, please did anyone hear him?’ the knights looked confused as Arthur grabbed his hair in pain, ‘Gwaine, did you hear his vo…’

Gwaine was running before Arthur could finish. He peeled away from the army in a matter of seconds and towards the mountain on the mountain. Sweat and rain pearled on his brow as he found the steep path. Two days the villagers said, two days to reach the summit, but Gwaine didn’t have that long. He didn’t even have time to think about what he was doing.

At the apex, Merlin’s clouded eyes turned back to Morgana, robed in royal blue as the clouds cast the shadows that would frame their private war.

‘So, you decided to face me, Emrys?’ she twisted her smile around the words, ‘Then you are not the wise and powerful warlock I’ve been led to believe. You are a fool to think you can defeat me.’

Merlin sighed, ‘No, Morgana. I know I cannot defeat you. You will kill me today.’ Morgana’s face fell slightly as she finally saw the solemn exhaustion in Merlin’s face, ‘But you will die too. And all the pain we have both inflicted will perish with us.’ Through that brooding darkness, his eyes pierced gold.

As the breath tore through his lungs like sand, Gwaine saw the first flash. He stumbled, the rock cracking beneath him. He flung his hand out to catch himself. Half the pass tumbled down into the abyss beneath him, one foot dangling over where it has been just a moment past. Gwaine hauled himself up, the sharp rock slicing into his hand as he did. A deep breath saw him jump over the chasm before he broke into a sprint once more. The storm began to pelt down on him, icy and slick. He drove his body with reckless haste across that fragile path towards the battle above.

The two sorcerers circled each other. Carefully placed steps around that tiny summit with only the powder-fine ring of decaying rock to warn them of the drop should a foot be misplaced.

‘You do not care for the prophecy then?’ Morgana gave a sinister laugh, ‘Arthur cannot bring peace, so you’re right. You may as well die.’ she paused in thought, flicking up her eyes from hooded lashes, ‘Or...You could join me. We could rule side by side, Emrys. Immortal and undefeated.’

‘Oh, but I do believe in Arthur, Morgana. I always have.’ with fists clenched, his feet swept through the dirt as though circling prey, ‘And I believe in you. I believe that the kind-hearted woman I met is still in there somewhere.’

Morgana spat at him, ‘You know nothing, Merlin! You are just some silly serving boy, whereas I am the high priestess of the old religion! And I will not wait to bring Camelot to its knees!’

‘Arthur still loves you. He wants peace! He doesn’t want you to die!’ he sighed with defeat as Morgana bristled with rage, ‘But you’ll leave no choice, will you?’

Between the roars of thunder, Gwaine could hear the army scrambling up the mountain far below him; Catraoine casting spells to widen the path. To them, Gwaine was a mere dot in the distance and too far to reach for help. He clawed his way across the rockface, the juts of stone, tipped red from ripping into his chest. The path here was mere inches wide, but his pace didn’t slow. A days journey was made in less than an hour, as he reached the small plateau before the peak. He took a second to catch his breath, his muscles burning from the climb. But as the lightning struck down to sever a sheet off of the mountain to smash miles beneath him, he knew time had nearly ran out. 

Merlin swept aside the fork of lighting Morgana brought forth, sending it crashing into the mountain. The ground beneath his feet rumbled until that needlepoint peak was but a hair's breadth.

Gwaine raced skywards, the figures in the shadow clearer through the lashing rain.

A ball of light crackled in Morgana's hands. Merlin barred his teeth as flames rose from his fingers.

He couldn’t breathe but he couldn’t stop pelting towards them. One last incline until he reached them. He had to. He had to save him.

The light in her hands sparked, ‘And now, Emrys, your time has come.’

The raw energy in her hand burst forward, the rain singeing on the light's edge. Gwaine threw Merlin from his feet. He screamed. It tore into his heart, the skin melting at its sharp impact. His eyes rolled at the obsidian sky weeping over him. Gwaine body, lungs failing, cracked against the floor.

There was a burst of light, an ungodly heat, a wretched wail. The fire crashed against a pure blue bolt before he heard a scream falling, down, down into nothing below him. The earth quaked and turning, a body crumbled next to him, features falling from life.

The rain fell in silence. Gwaine rasped, a pale hand reaching out. His final act, pressed under the ash black sky, returned as Merlin, one final time reached back. The tips of their fingers found each other; it was all they could bear.

The villagers were right. Gwaine _could_ see Avalon from the mountain; it was glittering in Merlin’s eyes before it all went black.


	62. The Adonis in the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Nine (10)

_Are they alive?_

_Gwaine! Gwaine. Oh god…_

_What was he thinking?_

_We don’t have long, hurry, we must return to…_

_Can you hear me, little man? Are you still in there?_

_Percy, we all love you, but we’re worried. You can’t go on like this._

_How is he?  
No change. There’s never any change._

_Gwaine. I still love you. I’ll wait forever for you. Please come back to me._

_Percival. You need to eat._

_No, you don’t know what it’s like! You don’t have a fucking clue! He can’t die, he won’t die!_

_Gwaine, it’s Arthur. It’s taken me so long to sit here and talk with...to you. I can’t thank you enough for what you did. It was a truly selfless act. When you wake, because you must wake, I will make sure you and Percival have the life you deserve together. I promise you that._

_It’s five years today since Hartley died. I normally go to his grave but I think he’ll understand just this once. Because I can’t miss you waking up, can I? You can wake up now if you want. I'm right here and I love you._

_I don’t know if you can hear me petal. It’s Catraoine. Hold on, please, hold on. There is so much you need to know._

_I’m not speaking as your king, I’m speaking as your friend, Percival. It’s been a year. He isn’t waking up._

_J...just...just come back to me. I need you. I...I can’t keep…_

_We all love you, Petal. I hope you know that. Your destiny is not over yet._

_We should be married by now. I should have taken us away. Some small cottage in the country, just us, just the two of us. I should’ve saved you from this. This is all my fault. I wasn’t quick enough._

_I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s just some chest pain, leave me be._

_He woke up! He woke up, so Gwaine will wake up too! Just you wait! You all lost faith in him but he’s stronger than you all! You’ll show them, my love, you’ll come back and we’ll have the rest of our lives together. You’ll want for nothing. I promise. I promise a thousand times._

_I’ve examined him, sire. It seems he fainted due to some breathing complication. I have prescribed some remedies, and Catraoine has her best healers on hand._

_I hope you don’t mind. I need to hold you. Just...just hold you a little while… My love. My love. My Gwaine…._

_Come quickly!_

_There must be something you can do! Gaius! Catraoine! You have to!_

_I...I can’t do it. How can I tell him…_

_Petal?_

The oil slick darkness slipped from his eyes. Above him, there was a ceiling, not the black sky he remembered. Gwaine tried to move, but his muscles failed. He felt desperately weak as he drew a sudden breath.

‘Gwaine. Gwaine!’ his eyes ached in their sockets as Catraoine came into view. She went to continue, but her tears overcame her, sobbing into his hollow chest.

His throat was parched, ‘Am I alive?’.

She nodded, cupping his face in both hands, ‘Yes, petal. Yes, you are. Oh my god, you’re back. After all this time.’ She brought a cup of water to his cracked lips, gently pushing his head up to sip, ‘Not too much or your body will reject it.’

As he stirred back into consciousness, he realised what Catraoine had said, ‘How long have I been lying here?’

‘One year, eight months, and thirteen days.’

‘I failed, didn’t I?’

Catraoine took his hand gently into her own, ‘No darling. You saved him. Merlin woke up six months ago. He will be so pleased that you’ve recovered. Everyone will.’ 

‘B...before the battle. Before… you said there was something I should know.’

‘That doesn’t matter right…’ Gwaine tried to lean towards her, his breath shallow before collapsing back down, ‘Okay. Okay.’ she swallowed before beginning, turning her chair to face him head-on, he held out her hand, ‘May I?’

With a small nod, Catraoine closed her eyes and pressed her palm against the warm skin revealed in the open collar of Gwaine’s shirt. Despite her closed eyes, her head moved as though following an image. He felt his heart quicken slightly, in some strange way it felt like she was in his head.

‘I see a muddy red in your aura. There are blue veins running through it.’ She leaned back, ‘Anger. Fear. It is the same as when you rode to the camp. I guess time for you hasn’t been the same for you as for the rest of us.’ with a wince he remembered the dreams, the betrayal. Catraoine stroked his hair softly, ‘You’re aura appears confused. Tell me.’

‘I don’t know why I… Why I… saved him. It still hurts so m...much.’ 

Catraoine brushed the tears from his face with a solemn understanding, ‘Oh. Gwaine, I’m...The pain Emrys has put you through.’ she shook her head at the ceiling, ‘The pain you are both in.’

Gwaine sucked his teeth, ‘I don’t think Merlin was in pain.’

‘I can’t blame you for telling yourself that. But you know it isn’t true, don’t you?’

‘And what do you know, eh?’

Catraoine sighed as the fire crackled in the great, ‘You didn’t know his name was Emrys. Which means he never told you. That’s what I know, petal. And that is what I was going to tell you all those months ago. The prophecies of my people spoke of Emrys, of the fate of our world resting on his shoulders. You surely don’t think he was spoken of _alone_ do you?’ 

Gwaine furrowed his brow, ‘You mean Arthur?’

‘I mean you. The stories spoke of strength, courage, and magic saving Albion. But these are not concepts, not traits of a population; it is you, strength, Arthur, courage, and Merlin’s magic which will do this. Which has already done so much. What isn’t written in those stories is the pain you will all endure to make it so. We can predict certain things, but the complications of love are often too volatile to see clearly. It is no excuse for what Merlin did, but perhaps it helps explain why you felt the need to save him nonetheless.’

Gwaine used what little strength he had to push himself up on the bed, ‘And Percival. What does the prophecy say about him?’

Catraoine nodded, ‘Nothing, petal. Percival was a good man who loved you. And believe me, that is a more blessed thing than any prophecy.’

He felt his heart flutter, his eyes suddenly wide and awake, ‘Was?’ Catraoine looked shamefully at the ground, ‘Was?’

‘He, um, he…’ her voice caught before she clapped a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to keep it together, ‘Percival is gone, Gwaine. He kept fainting and finally… his heart gave out.’ she exhaled a shaking breath, ‘For what it’s worth, you were with him when it happened. We found him in your arms. And we did everything we could, please, believe me, we tried every spell, every potion every… But there’s no cure for a broken heart. He couldn’t live without you, and so he gave in.’

‘But I woke up.’ Gwaine could hardly see through the tides of tears, ‘But I’m here. I came back for him.’

‘And he will watch from Avalon and finally be at peace, petal. And you will be together again one day.’

Gwaine felt as though the air was poison racing through his lungs. He got to his feet before realising he didn't have the strength to walk, collapsing onto the stone. It was then he saw it. Their two sigils propped up against the windowpane; the final image of a life together lost. Catraoine bent down to help him up, but the quivering wreck of a man couldn’t wrestle his eyes away.

‘W...when did it happen?’ he whimpered, ‘I could hear his voice sometimes. I wanted to wake up so badly to hold him. How late was I?’

‘It doesn’t matter no my…’

‘Of course, it matters! How long, how long?’

‘Three days ago. He held on for as long as he could too.’

He tightly closed his eyes to quell the tears in vain. 

The meadow.   
The love that sang in the sunlight.   
The adonis who saved his poor soul.   
That good man who had the misfortune to fall in love with Gwaine. 

Gwaine tried so hard to memorize every contour of his body, every smile flickering on his face. He tried to find some remembrance of their final embrace. 

Avalon was only heaven because Percival now finally rested in its blessed waters.


	63. The Gift of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (1)

He could tell who was outside without seeing them now. Arthur would always pace, three steps one way, three the other. Catraoine would scuff her feet on the stone, brushing the door before deciding not to knock. The knights all came in a three, always softly whispering before giving up, never knowing when the right time would be. Then one morning, as the snow softly fell to the ground, Gwaine heard a sound he didn’t recognise. He craned to hear it. The soft shuffle of footsteps with the gentle tap of a cane on the cold stone and for the first time, after all those people couldn’t face his grief, he heard the door open.

The man known as strength in the prophecies still couldn’t stand, so carefully turned his wheeled chair to face the visitor. He nearly didn’t recognise him. The man was tall and pale, his delicate face brushed with a raven black beard, cut close to his jaw. His hair, slightly flecked with grey, fell across his face in loose curls casting a shadow over the tired blue of his eyes. The cane came to a shaking stop on the stone slabs, and the man leaned, wincing, on one leg as his shoulder hunched with the effort.

‘Gwaine. Would you mind if we spoke?’

‘Merlin...Is that you?’ he pushed his chair across the floor towards the figure, ‘What happened?’

‘You saved my life, that’s what.’ but Merlin didn’t smile at this, ‘I’m sorry you did. I know if you hadn’t then Percival would still be… I think he was always too good for this world anyway.’

Gwaine smiled sadly, ‘Now that is true. At least he’s free of me now.’

Merlin took a shuddered step forward, ‘Don’t say that. He loved you dearly and he knew you loved him back.’

‘I keep wondering why we put off the wedding, you know?’ Gwaine rubbed his knuckles as he stared down into his lap, ‘It was always something silly. We had to go on a quest, we had to go help someone, we… Christ. All I wanted was him and we kept debating where and when and what fucking flowers… What a waste, eh?’

‘It’s only when time runs out we realise any has passed in the course of love. It’s only when it’s over you realise it had begun.’

Gwaine gestured to the seat by his bed, ‘Take a seat Merlin you look like you’re in agony. And stop getting all poetic on me I can hardly keep it together as it…’ his levity cracked on a sob. He steeled himself with a false smile, ‘Nearly two years I was out, apparently.’

‘And a lot has happened since. Has anyone…’ Gwaine shook his head. Of course, no one had told him anything, they couldn’t even face him, ‘The main thing you need to know is that Morgana survived. She’s here in the castle. They found a fomorroh in her neck and when I woke up, I helped them kill it. Turns out Morgause had enchanted her. She can’t remember anything since she was kidnapped all those years ago. She’s alive but a shell, she can’t believe how many she killed.’

‘That’s some enchantment.’ Gwaine almost laughed in his disbelief, ‘So, none of it was her, it was all...she was made to do it?’ Merlin nodded, ‘Well, I never. I take from your tone it's not over though.’

The now king sighed, ‘Sadly not. Morgause is at large and on the warpath more than ever before. She might have been able to enchant Morgana, but in comparison, her magic isn’t half as strong. We believe she’s amassing an army. But...that can wait until another day. I just came to give you something, if you want it, that is.’

His cane wobbled with his weight as he hauled his skeletal frame to its feet. From the inner pocket of his robes, Merlin retrieved a strange instrument; a horn carved of ivory and adorned with delicate silver. Gwaine took it into his lap, frowning as it was what it was.

‘It is known as the Horn of Cathbhadh. If you take it to the stones of Nemeton, you can...You will be able to say goodbye to Percival.’ his voice was barely a whisper, ‘Myself or Catraoine can come with you to perform the spell...I hope you know, Gwaine, if I could trade places with…’

‘I know, Merlin. And thank you.’ he gazed down at the hope of seeing Percy one last time, ‘Thank you.’

Merlin nodded, ‘Get your strength back and I’ll take you there myself. It is the very least I can do.’ he went to leave when he spotted the sigils on the window. 

With enormous effort, Merlin crept slowly across the stone, the tap of his cane a slow tempo between tentative shuffles. After several minutes, Merlin returned to Gwaine’s side, biting his lip in pain as he bent down. He softly placed the sigil pin through the fabric of Gwaine’s jacket, patting it down gently over his heart.


	64. Until Next Time, Little Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (2)

After a few weeks of recovery, Gwaine was just strong enough to walk with a cane and decided he couldn’t any longer for the pilgrimage to the stones of Nemeton. Arthur had strongly advised against it, but Merlin insisted he should be the one to accompany Gwaine, and after the king saw the grief in his husband's eyes, Arthur felt he had no choice but to let him. The truth was since Merlin had woken he hadn't been able to forgive himself. For so many things he sat in a silent penance, but when Percival finally died he crumbled. Nothing Arthur could say or do could retrieve Merlin from his despondent sorrow and he could only watch as the man he loved nose-dived into study, clutching at any straw he could to make amends. When Merlin finally found the Horn of Cathbhadh, Arthur saw the tension he’d been holding in his fragile body finally release, and his will to live simmer once more.

It was too dangerous to attempt to ride horseback, so Gwaine and Merlin climbed slowly into the wagon as the sun rose, hoping to reach the stones just before nightfall. The pair rode in a surprisingly comfortable silence, sharing a flask of mead and the same cloak to warm their legs against the snow. The clouds hung grey over the sacred spot as they spied it in the distance. As the sunlight, milky and weak, fell down upon the scene, Merlin called the wagon to a halt before offering a hand to help Gwaine down. The pair, in the twilight of their youth, walked like old men to the stones, and Gwaine pressed his sigil into his chest with growing fear. A shaking hand brought Merlin to a pause before they reached the circle and he turned to see Gwaine, lips pressed thinly together and eyes blinking too fast, stuck still on the ground beneath his feet.

‘What do I say, Merlin?’

The warlock took Gwaine by the shoulders, holding him up steady as much as he could without his cane to support him, ‘We don’t have to do this…’

‘No. No, I must I…’ Gwaine cut a tight smile over his face as he rode through the horrible sensation of adrenaline thumping through his veins, ‘What if he doesn't want to see me.’

Merlin tilted his head in what Gwain thought was sympathy as he pulled him tight. Head rested on his shoulder, Merlin let his eyes fall into the guilt he felt, ‘Percy will always want to see you Gwaine. He will be happy. Come on now; the one thing certain in this world is that that man loved you.’ hand in hand, Gwaine nodded before the made the final few steps to the centre of the stones. Merlin sparked his eyes and a humming glow appeared suspended in the air. He bowed out, leaving Gwaine alone to gather himself. He brought the Horn of Cathbhadh to his lips, closed his eyes, and blew.

A cold wind whipped around him, strong and bitter, while he strained to stay upright against his cane. With all the suddenness it began, red clouds he wore on his eyelids went a deep blue as the wind perished. The silence was strange. No bird song, no breeze, not even his breath could be heard, save the gentle push of water too and fro somewhere in the distance. Gwaine couldn't care to open his eyes. No one was there. No one, this was all just…

‘Hey, little man.’

His eyes burst open, and there he was. Gwaine could hardly see through the tears, but his Adonis was haloed in angelic light just beyond the veil. He was young, maybe twenty years old, a statuesque beauty, just as he had been in life.

A tentative hand reached out, the other resting on the cane when Percival raced forward to hug him. Gwaine was lifted from his feet as a symphony of kisses were played against his hair, ‘You woke. You woke, my love!’ Percy cradled Gwaine's face, both men beaming, ‘I knew you would.’

‘But I was too late.’ Gwaine raised his face, ‘I left you alone for so long and now you’re gone and…’

A finger tenderly stopped his words, ‘I am not alone, little man.’ with a reluctant smile, Percy breathed, ‘Hartley is here. He’s been waiting for me.’

For the first time in so long, Gwaine’s heartfelt filled with joy. Percy cocked his head behind him, and Gwaine saw a man waving through the fog of Avalon to the pair. He stood even taller than Percival, hair dark cascading down his back in thick waves in front of a small farmhouse. When he moved his gaze back to Percival, he found his face consumed with sorrow, ‘Gwaine I… I will always love you but I…’

‘Shut up farm boy. Just shut up.’ Gwaine cupped his face in his hands, ‘I am overjoyed you are together. You deserve an eternity of happiness my love. W...What is it like there?’

Percival slipped behind Gwaine, turning the man to look into Avalon as he breathed in the familiar scent of his former fiance's chestnut hair, ‘Can you see it? The weather is warm all year, even the rain. We have a simple life. But...but it's enough, you know? I think you might even find it a little boring, my love; there are no taverns.’

‘Sound wretched.’ Gwaine laughed, pulling Percival's arms around him tighter, ‘No, no, it sounds perfect.’ he muscles still ached from the journey, but he carefully twirled around to face Percival, hands rested on his chest and looking pleadingly into his eyes, ‘We never got married.’

‘Well, we couldn't, could we? I wasn’t about to marry a man who wanted to carry a bouquet of weeds.’ Gwaine turned to see Percy smiling down on him, ‘Daisy’s… honestly…’

‘They’re cute! And cheap! And...and…’ Gwaine trembled, ‘And our meadow was filled with them.’

Percival gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, ‘And it was perfect there, as it always was with you.’

‘I love you, Percy, I always will.’

‘And I you. But, my dearest Gwaine, your life goes on and you must not waste it waiting to join me. I want you to be happy.’ for a moment, a strange moment Gwaine couldn't be sure of, Percival gazed at something beyond his shoulder, back out in the mortal world, ‘You know time moves differently in Avalon. I’ve seen both the future and past for you and I cannot work out where you are right now… But, it was all meant to be. For what little comfort that is.’

So many questions raced through his mind, but only one surfaced, the most important one, ‘Are you happy?’

Percy glanced back around to Hartley in the distance, sat peacefully in the summer sun, head leaned back on a pillow of moss. He nodded.

‘Then, I guess this really is goodbye, farm boy.’

‘Until next time, my little man. My Gwaine.’

And with one chaste kiss, where Gwaine breathed in the sweet familiar scent of that divine man, the icy wind ripped away his lover leaving him shaking in the cold embrace of reality. His body rolled with convulsions of breathing until Merlin steadied him. Despite themselves, the pair held each other. Merlin didn’t ask, but after all these years he didn't have to, he knew Gwaine inside out and the man in his arms was finally free of torment. Percival was happy in Avalon.

When they pulled apart, Gwaine gave a sad smile, caressing Merlin’s haggard face in his own quivering hands,’ Do you remember…?’

‘Yes. It’s three miles south from here.’

‘Let’s go there.’

In a tavern on the outskirts of Camelot that neither man had seen in years, they settled into a corner table away from the patrons. The barmaid, Mary, had a faint flicker of recognition in her eyes as she served the pair, but dismissed it. The two young men she’d met all those years ago when Prince Arthur arrived in her tavern wouldn’t be so old, so tired, so reserved. They clinked their tankards together to Percival. As Merlin shifted closer, he remembered that day they first met. Gwaine smiled as he caught a glimpse of the sparkling eyes, shimmering with gold like a sunset over the seas to the east, behind the tired milky blue of the wise man now holding his hand under the table.


	65. The Bane and The Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (3)

Merlin and Gwaine spent most of the evening not speaking, just flicking their eyes out the door every time someone entered to assess how dark it was. The revelry of drunkards came and went, unaware of the pair sat quietly watching as they stumbled through verse after verse and tankard after tankard. If any of the patrons had looked over, it would have been clear that Gwaine and Merlin didn’t fit in. Among the farming families who’d known each other for generations, all lean and leathered from the sun, the pair with canes and premature grey dusting their hairlines blurred into the worn woodwork behind them. Gwaine kept his eyes glued to the door, never once giving in to glance at Merlin by his side. Finally, as one of the few remaining men stumbled out in a drunken haze, Merlin saw it had become pitch black.

‘Too dark to ride back to Camelot now.’

‘Maybe we should stay the night?’ Gwaine asked, but it wasn’t a question at all, not when the answer had already been decided the moment they set foot in there.

Merlin got to his feet, ‘I’ll go ask about a room.’

Gwaine nodded before going back to his ale. He hadn’t had many that night, but after nearly two years of no drinking, it seemed his tolerance had plummeted. He listened, eyes closed, to the soft tap of Merlin’s cane on the stone slabs, the hushed conversation with the barmaid, and the quiet jingle of keys exchanging hands. Merlin helped Gwaine up before the two of them climbed the narrow stairs with difficulty, taking a break halfway to catch their breaths.

The room was small and lit with a single candle; the bed simply two mattresses stacked one atop the other. Gwaine groaned as he lowered himself down, the final few inches turning into a fall as his legs gave up. Merlin knelt in front of him, gently helping him out of his cloak, of his shirt, before his still nimble fingers removed his. Unable to stand without aid, Merlin had to crawl on to the bed to settle down next to Gwaine.

‘You haven’t aged a day, you know?’ Gwaine whispered in the darkness, ‘It’s like you're stuck in some eternal youth.’

Merlin brought Gwaine’s hand to his face, ‘I think the grey in my hair would argue with that.’ he softly smiled, but found Gwaine shaking his head.

‘After all these years, Merlin.’ he sighed, ‘After all these years.’

‘There’s something you should know, Gwaine.’ Merlin propped himself up on his elbows as he reluctantly let Gwaine’s fingers fall from his hair, ‘Arthur wants to tell you himself, and I will let him but… Some prior warning might make it easier.’ he rubbed his eyes, ‘When we were sleeping, after several months it got too much for Percival. He wasn’t eating, sleeping...And, he won’t admit it but Arthur was the same. Eventually…’

‘They were together, weren’t they?’ Gwaine cut in, ‘Please, Merlin. Tell me they were together.’ Merlin nodded, ‘Oh thank god.’

‘They felt awful.’

Gwaine wiped a tear from his eyes, ‘They shouldn't have. They shouldn’t have.’ he muttered, allowing the smile to blossom on his face, ‘Christ! To think they felt bad about it after all we’ve…’ he stopped as he looked at Merlin. Merlin who was lying next to him in the same bed. Merlin with half his clothes off and the moonlight bathing on his pale skin, ‘I’m glad Percy wasn’t alone all that time.’

‘Me too. Arthur doesn’t quite understand how I’m… _happy_ about it. But knowing they had each other on those nights where it was too much to bear. It’s so much better than to imagine them alone, isn’t it?’ Merlin’s face suddenly dropped, ‘I’ve missed you, Gwaine. I’ve missed you and I’m so fucking sorry for all those things I did.’ in the blink of an eye Merlin was sobbing into the pillow, ‘There’s no excuse. None. After the Isle of the Blessed… I think I lost my mind with it. I can’t face myself. I can’t face what I did…’

He stopped as Gwaine latched on to him, holding his face in place so he couldn’t pull his gaze away, ‘Listen. Listen. I know everything you have done, Merlin. And I still ran up the mountain to die by your side without a second thought so don’t you...don’t you…’

He couldn’t continue. There was nothing to say that wasn’t already written on his face. Gwaine softened his grasp, easing his body closer to Merlin’s. Their foreheads met, and he waited, uncertain, guilty, until the celestial warmth of Merlin’s body moving into his own flooded the senses. Gwaine pressed his lips to Merlin’s.

‘I can’t keep doing this to you.’ Merlin whispered, heady from the chaste kiss that still lingered on his lips, ‘We both know I’ve been the sole cause of your pain.’

‘Oh, I don’t deny you’re the ruin of me.’ Gwaine pulled Merlin against him. His restrained touch trembling into determined want, ‘But what a sublime ruination you are.’ 

Merlin pushed back lightly, ‘I’m just a man.’

‘You know you’re more than that.’ he pushed a finger to quiet him, ‘I don’t mean the prophecy. I mean _to me_.’

‘When did you become a romantic?’

‘When writing our tragedy became too much, my prince.’ he held Merlin’s hands against his chest, the deity drinking in the steady beat of his heart, ‘And when we return, you will be with Arthur, _as it is meant to be_. And I will love you from afar, _as it is meant to be_...We’ll finally grow up and stop being selfish.’

Merlin took in a deep breath and nodded, holding even tighter on to Gwaine’s hands, ‘That sounds like the right thing to do.’

‘It is. It is.’ Gwaine’s eyes trailed down the iridescent skin of the deity before he felt his arms around him, pulling Merlin tight against him, catching his breath against another impending downfall, ‘But what’s one last sin, after all, we’ve done?’

Merlin froze, captivated in his Gwaine’s certain gaze. He didn’t deserve Gwaine’s forgiveness, nor his love, nor his tainted lust and yet...he had it all; pulsing through every vein of Gwaine’s body was a bitter loyalty, an aching tinder of longing which Merlin knew better than to light again. But Merlin wasn’t a good man; neither man could claim that title now. They were the bane and blessing of one another.

With an ache that ebbed in both body and mind, Gwaine reached beneath the thin fabric to the blissful sound of air escaping Merlin's parted lips like summer breeze. Their eyes locked without a kiss in full acknowledgement of that inevitable transgression, Merlin returned the touch as though his hands were made for Gwaine and Gwaine alone. The pit of Gwaine’s stomach lifted as it does when one is falling from a great height, crashing down into the paradise of Merlin’s palm. Without thought, he lunged forward, biting down on Merlin's lip as though the remedy to his pain lay pulsing in the veins beneath. They whimpered, the loudest sound in that silent room choked up with the fog of lust. Letting go, Gwaine pushed Merlin's hips into his own, roughly moving against one another, hard and wincing with the crime they had so longed to commit.

Despite his legs still lost for their full strength, Merlin eased himself to straddle Gwaine, lowering his body with trembling breath on to his lover. His weight pushed all of Gwaine inside him, the two of them gasping at the pulsation of divine pleasure rocketing through their bodies. Gwaine opened his eyes when he could muster enough composure and his hands found their way to Merlin’s hips, pulling him down further, fingers pressed purple into his ethereal body. They rocked slowly. Every gasp echoed in the quiet night like gunfire, every thrust another chip away at what little morality they could claim. Sweat beaded cold on Gwaine's brow from the effort, but he couldn't stop himself, neither man could. The shuddering weakness of his legs caused delicious convulsions inside Merlin, whose eyes teared from the intensity. Gwaine held Merlin's hips tighter, the dark pain contrasted with the white-hot pleasure burning through him.

And they were sorry. For Percival, for Arthur, for every tear shed in the wake of the love they daren’t speak of. And they were sorry most of all for how good it felt. They breathed each other’s names in that eruption of ecstasy, knowing only they could make the other feel this sacred sin. Gwaine trailed his fingers across Merlin’s chest, lightly asking him to stay there. He looked up to find a radiance that would shade Apollo himself in the mire of mediocrity.

They kissed one last betrayal before the dawn light came to bathe clean the wounds they inflicted on the world. Of course, they were beyond redemption, but what love, what _true love_ , won’t make monsters of us all in the end?


	66. We Are Yet To Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (4)

Having decided not to wait any longer, Merlin slid the keys to the room over the counter before the landlady got up so he and Gwaine could get back to the citadel early. The night before was still fresh in their minds and, on that long ride home, they decided holding hands would be okay. Just until they got back, then...well, then they would do the right thing and keep their distance, of course. Gwaine rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder, shamelessly breathing in the warm, musk of his loose curls, as the horses trotted languidly along the path. They were halfway back to Camelot when they saw the rider approaching. As he gained paces towards them, Gwaine slipped his hand from Merlin’s; it was Leon. The knight rode with a fevered speed, his face flushed red by the time he met them in the road, panting and gaunt.

‘Leon? What on earth is the matter?’ Merlin leaned forward towards him, extending a hand as far as he could despite the twinges in his shoulder, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, yes, I’m…’ he took a long breath to steady himself, ‘Where have you been? Arthur’s been worried sick!’

‘I was at the stones of Nemeton until nightfall, we decided we best get rooms at the inn rather than risk the bandits.’ Gwaine felt Merlin relax against his shoulder. What was one more lie, anyway?

‘Well, thank god for that.’ Leon rubbed his brow, ‘There’s been a bounty put on your head. Morgause has grown desperate; she no longer cares if it’s by her hand Camelot falls or that of a hired hand. You can’t go back to Camelot.’ his eyes slipped to Gwaine, ‘None of us can.’

Gwaine so desperately wished he was still holding on to Merlin’s hand, ‘Where do we go then? If there’s a price on Merlin’s head, surely the safest place would be the capital? It’s built to be a fortress for god’s sake…’

‘There’s a plan and I will get to that. But until then I need you to follow me...And wear your hoods.’ Leon expertly swung his horse around and began riding off towards the east, away from Camelot. 

Merlin grabbed the reins and directed the horses to follow as their wagon rumbled over the threadbare grass of winter, crunching in the dawn snow.

After several hours of riding, including looping back and changing routes lest they were being tracked, the trio arrived at a small mountain pass some leagues away from Camelot. Leon tied up his horse and disappeared into what looked like a small cavern in the rock before leaning back and giving the nod for Gwaine and Merlin to join. 

The joints ached as they disembarked the wagon now that the crisp snow had turned to sleet. Merlin gave Gwaine his arm to steady him as strength himself was yet to regain his brawn. After the tentative steps that lead then to the cavern’s entrance, both men were aghast to find a secret home nestled in the mountainside, adorned with a fireplace and modest furniture.

‘This was used as a hideout by the druids during Uther’s reign.’ Leon calmly stated as he attempted to get the fire alight, ‘Merlin. If you would.’ he gestured towards the boulder on the pass which Merlin rolled over to close the entrance with a flick of his wrist, ‘It’s one of the safest places we can stay for now. It’ll do. It’ll do.’

With the fire finally lit, Leon slumped down into an armchair and wrung his hands. The three of them sat in silence for sometime before he spoke again, ‘Gwaine I’m…’ he began, catching his words before too much emotion tumbled into them, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come and see you when you woke up, I wasn’t… I had no idea what to say.’

‘It’s alright Leon. Although, I see much has changed for you.’ Leon looked up confused until Gwaine pointed to the ring on his finger, ‘When did that happen?’

Leon let out a tight but happy sigh, ‘About six months ago. Catraoine proposed. I never thought she would ever want to settle but...well, with the baby on the way, I guess…’

‘You’re going to be a dad?’ Gwaine’s smile lit across the room, ‘That’s...Oh, Leon, that’s just wonderful!’

‘Well, if I survive this war it will be, yes.’ his face turned grave once more, the dark bags of tiredness drooping from his eyes before he gathered himself, ‘I know you’ve had longer to adjust to Merlin, but as a heads up to the both of you. Providing all is well, Elyan is going to ride out here with Morgana in the next few days; Morgause has a price on her head too.’

Gwaine swallowed hard. He knew that she was not to blame, that she had been manipulated by a twisted form of magic, but it still stung him that they must protect the woman who once wished them all dead. Raising his eyes to meet Merlin’s steady and knowing gaze, he pushed the thought down.

‘What about Arthur?’ Merlin whispered, clutching on to the head of his cane with white fingers, ‘How is he not in danger staying there?’

‘He is.’ Leon bluntly, ‘But not as much as before. As I said, there is a plan and it is already in motion. Tomorrow, Merlin, you and Gwaine will both be reported dead to the people. Doubtlessly, Morgause will want proof, but Catraoine can cast a vision spell in the crypt, allowing onlookers to see an illusion of your bodies before burial. We even have a spy who will claim the bounty with Morgause.’ Leon loosened his tunic slightly, finding the collar much to tight to breath in, ‘The point is. It will buy us a little bit of time to track where she is and what kind of army she has. And if you are both supposedly dead, she’ll stop looking for the both of you and Morgana.’

‘Why me too?’ the question was on Merlin’s lips as well but Gwaine got there first, ‘Why do I have to be declared dead?’

Leon pressed his elbows against his knees, ‘There’s a price for you as well, Gwaine.’

Merlin straightened his back uneasy, ‘On all the knights?’

‘No. Just Gwaine.’ he held up his hands, ‘I don’t know why I just know I have to protect you both until Elyan can get word to us the plan has worked.’ Leon’s shoulders dropped in defeat, ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been riding all night and my head is splitting. Would you mind if I…’

‘Go ahead.’ Merlin nodded and the knight thankfully slunk off to a small inner room to sleep, leaving Gwaine and Merlin alone to contemplate their fate in the fire. Within a few moments, they heard him snoring.

‘So.’

‘So.’ Gwaine turned to face Merlin, ‘So much for getting back to normal, eh?’

The prince let out a soft laugh, ‘That suggests there was a normal, to begin with, dear.’

‘Dear?’ Gwaine let a side smile creep on to his face, ‘Since when have you called anyone _dear_?’

‘Since I started becoming middle-aged, _dearest_.’ they laughed but it trailed off in defeat, ‘We should rest, I guess.’

‘Yes. Yes, indeed.’ Gwaine strained to his feet, peering to see several side rooms carved into the cave, ‘I think there are beds in all of them. I’ll go take the one next to Leons. I think the biggest one is to the right, you can take…’

‘You said when we _return_.’ Gwaine watched as Merlin rose with renewed strength to his side. The back of Merlin’s free hand grazed against Gwaine’s, ‘We are yet to return.’

Gwaine bit his lip, ‘You’re twisting my words, Merlin. You know what I meant. What we agreed.’

‘Yes. Yes, you’re right, as ever.’ Merlin slipped his fingers from Gwaine, who instantly felt the loss of that touch like a fresh wound, ‘I’ll be in the far room.’ his cane tapped along the rug thrown floor, pausing once to glance back with a smile, before continuing into the darkness.

Gwaine turned back to the fireplace, closing his eyes until he heard the soft pad of Merlin settling onto the bed. He wasn’t sure why he waited there, why he paused. Perhaps it was to test of himself to see if any willpower remained if he actually could keep away when offered a slim glimmer of that promised land one could only hear when pressed on Merlin’s chest. And with a clenched jaw and wrung hands, he followed, because how could he not?


	67. The Orchard, The Lake, The Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (5)

He closed his eyes with a thankful sigh as he heard Gwaine approach the room. The knight sat beside him ever so quietly, the shame of yet more time together swallowed in the tide of melancholy joy for more stolen moments.

Merlin gave a sleepy smile as Gwaine nestled into him, slinging one arm around Gwaine’s broad back and placing a kiss in his chestnut hair. The knight seemed to fall asleep instantly to the slow thump of Merlin’s heartbeat in his ear, breathing steady and content. There was something so different lying there with Gwaine to Arthur. In Arthur’s arms, Merlin’s mind always seemed to wander off, dancing through a thousand scenarios of how their lives could be so much easier without the threat of war and strain of rule. But with Gwaine, his head was oddly quiet; perhaps because there was no place he’d rather be. He leaned back one hand behind his head and sighed. The warmth and gentle simplicity of that embrace raced back to a memory Merlin had long thought lost.

_‘You know, for a moment when I first saw you, I thought maybe you’d packed it all in to join me.’_

He remembered the sweet taste of Gwaine’s fingertips against his lips. An oasis of hope shimmering in his dark eyes. How young and how strong and how in love he was.

_‘I would leave Camelot in a heartbeat for you Gwaine, but… It’s complicated.’_

_Gwaine pulled his lover close, ‘Try me.’_

He should have known then and there from that unquestioning eagerness that Gwaine would always, in some way, be his. He only wished Gwaine knew he had his heart from the moment they locked eyes in the tavern.

_‘There are things I have to do, things I have no choice in. I have to put that before…’_

_‘Before what? Your own happiness? Merlin, you deserve the world. And, I might not have much, but you have my heart. And I’d gladly spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.’_

He remembered placing a kiss into Gwaine’s palm to hide his face. A gesture of cowardice in the face of love. It all, ironically, seemed so clear back then. He had his destiny, his purpose, and nothing could come in the way of that. But those words uttered against his ear… Did Gwaine ever know that _his heart_ was all Merlin had ever wanted? 

_‘One day. One day, my love. But, until then, we have to save Arthur.’_

And there they were, lying in wait in another plan to save Arthur, in another scenario where they didn’t get to be together for long enough. Melancholy fell upon him then. For Arthur, the prince who fought his feelings for so many years, a man noble for the content of his heart and not his blood, had ripped apart the very foundation on which Camelot was built upon to be with Merlin. He had given him a life he never could have dreamed of, and a love that was loyal, open, and unashamed. A love that no one would ever dream of throwing away. Yet, oh yet, for one more moment with Gwaine, Merlin was always willing to burn down Eden just to feel the fleeting warmth of his flames.

‘I just had the most profound dream.’ the knight stirred awake in his arms, and Merlin couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear at the sight as Gwaine rubbed his eyes awake, ‘I was in this forest and it was entirely apple trees. And...and I could have as many as I wanted. They were my trees.’

Merlin squinted, ‘How is that _profound_?’

‘They were profoundly delicious. What? Stop laughing at me!’

Gwaine propped himself up as Merlin giggled, smiling into a kiss, ‘What is it with you and apples?’

‘I don’t know. They’re just nice!’ 

‘When we get back to Camelot, I’ll have you sent a bushel of them every day.’

With a sudden drop from his laughter, Gwaine reached out to Merlin’s face, ‘It’s nice. Waking up next to you.’ he pulled himself back into Merlin’s embrace and adjusted the covers tightly, ‘ It was… strange; the dream. I had this beautiful forest all around me but I just kept looking into this lake, like I was waiting for something. It was so lonely.’

Merlin ran his fingers through Gwaine’s hair, softly smoothing it down under his kisses. He couldn’t imagine Gwaine’s life without Percival and the image of the knight growing old alone, because he knew better than to hope Gwaine might move on, sent a shiver of ice through his body, ‘No matter what happens Gwaine,’ he murmured, ‘I’ll never let you be lonely. I couldn’t bear that.’

‘Well, If I don’t survive the fight with Morgause you won’t have to worry, eh?’ Gwaine laughed until he saw Merlin’s eye pricked with tears, ‘Whoa whoa, I was joking. We’re all going to be okay. Besides, I have to live long enough to get my cottage.’ he relaxed as a questioning smile returned to Merlin’s face, ‘Yep. That's the plan; Little cottage in the country. I’ll make my own mead and I’ll keep chickens and grow food and the garden will be overgrown with Cornflowers and Valerian.’

A grin got the better of Merlin’s face, ‘Make your own bread.’

‘Fish in the rivers.’

‘Read in front of the fire.’

‘You could visit.’ Gwaine curved his lips in a tentative smile, ‘We could have dinner in the garden in the summer. We could…’

‘We’re doomed, aren’t we? No matter what I do, I'm always going to be head over heels in…’

There was a loud cough from the other side of the wall, ‘Merlin. Gwaine. I just got word. Elyan and Morgana are on their way here; should arrive by nightfall.’

‘And Arthur?’ Gwaine asked.

‘Safe. He sends his love to you… to you both.’

The pair waited until Leon’s footsteps became soft with distance before letting out the breath they didn’t realise they’d been holding.

_I love you, Gwaine._

_I love you too, Merlin._

Unspoken in all but their eyes, they fell into a desperate kiss. Their time left together was short, so they tucked their bodies against one another as Merlin blew out the candle. They imagined a life together, a simple life where destiny and war would never find them. A life where they had hurt no one and their love remained pure as the snow. In the cloak of darkness in that safe little room, they lost their fears in a tender caress; a merciful few hours undisturbed where even a simple kiss could wipe clear the uncertain future that lay ahead of them both.

But, of course, the future wasn’t uncertain at all. The orchard, the lake, the waiting; it hadn't been a dream, but a premonition. If only they could have known that then; the future was already decided.


	68. The Serpents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (6)

Gwaine shivered as Merlin cast open the entrance to the cave. There was no one there, just the icy path and whirls of snow. Beside him, Leon rubbed his eyes; he hadn’t spoken much of it, but his fear for Catraoine and their baby was consuming him and he couldn’t sleep a wink without knowing their safety was ensured. With a deep intake of breath, Leon’s eyes fixed ahead, and Gwaine knew what that meant. In the blizzard, the figure of Elyan could just be made out leading the wagon towards them with Morgana inside. Their arrival meant the end to the fantasy of having a life with Merlin, and he quickly grabbed one last squeeze of his hand before the others could see. With sympathy and an en oui of his own, Merlin squeezed back, wishing that touch could last forever.

Elyan climbed down from his horse and made for Leon, embracing him in a hug, ‘She’s fine. She’s safe.’ he smiled before Leon had to ask, placing a hand to his shoulder, ‘And she said to tell you that she loves you.’ he turned his gaze to Merlin and Gwaine, giving a soft nod, ‘Arthur is well. Merlin, he misses you dearly. Gwaine, he said he looks forward to finally seeing you after all this time. Speaking of which…’ before Gwaine knew what was happening, Elyan enveloped him in a bear hug, ‘I missed you too.’

He went to give a characteristically witty retort but found the embrace too much, so he simply smiled and hugged back tighter.

‘How is she?’ Merlin’s voice softly cut through the storm towards the wagon.

Elyan sucked his teeth, ‘She’s...she’s okay. Still can’t remember a thing, a bit sacred but, who among us isn’t? I’ll go fetch her now.’

It was hard to reconcile the shaking slip of a woman being aided towards them with the high-priestess who bayed for their blood, but even though the snow, no one couldn’t mistake those raven ringlets for anyone other than Morgana Pendragon. Her head remained bowed as she came to a halt, leaning heavily on Elyan’s arm for strength. A look passed between Merlin and the knight, giving a solemn nod that Gwaine was aware of Morgana’s innocence before they made their way inside to safety.

Gwaine busied himself boiling a small pot of tea over the fireplace, anything to avoid eye contact, while Elyan filled them in.

‘Merlin and Gwaine’s deaths were announced last night to the people and our spy has left to find Morgause for the bounty.’

‘But it is not enough.’ Gwaine froze at the frail voice that came in the pin-drop silence, ‘I cannot remember but I have...dreams. Visions of futures yet to pass. If we all stay in one place we could be easily found.’

‘Which brings me to my point.’ Elyan sat up straight in the chair and clasped his hands, ‘We can’t risk all being found at once. Worst case scenario; if we split you three up and one gets captured, at least the other two will be safe to help the rescue efforts.’ he leaned into a small, serious tone, ‘Arthur and Catraoine have agreed to move Merlin to another safe location and I will take him there tonight. Gwaine, I’ll return for you in the morning, and Morgana will stay here as she is too frail to travel in this cold.’

The room fell to a hush as all those present contemplated the dangers of moving through unknown land under the watch of a high-priestess hell-bent on revenge. Gwaine slowly walked over to Merlin and without second thought placed a kiss firmly on his head, ‘You’re right. It is the smart thing to do.’ he met Merlin’s eyes with reluctance, ‘And you should leave soon, while you still have the cover of night.’ 

Merlin didn’t reply, he just held Gwaine’s hand for one last moment and nodded. The time had come to part, and it tasted ever so bitter.

Leon rose and went over to Gwaine, leaning in to whisper, ‘I think I should go with Elyan and Merlin tonight. This place is a fortress and…’

‘I agree. You need to keep him safe.’ Gwaine took in a steady breath, ‘ _Please,_ keep him safe, over everyone.’

With a pained understanding, Leon promised him with a look, ‘The place we are taking Merlin is not too far, so I will be back as soon as I can. And remember Gwaine, Morgana is different now. It was never her fault that all this pain befell you.’

‘I know.’

With the fire roaring in the grate, Gwaine helped Merlin into his cloak before leading him to the door with Leon and Elyan. The two men hugged each other close, knowing full well there wouldn’t be a next time, whether they lived or not.

‘Stay safe, dear Gwaine.’ Merlin whispered warmly in his ear, before leaning back for Gwaine to see the gold spark in his eyes, ‘ _Praesidium_... Just in case.’

Arm in arm, the knights walked Merlin to the wagon to begin their journey. Gwaine watched until they vanished into the inky snow and the boulder rolled shut the cavern. He stayed, staring at that rock for a while too long before steeling himself to face Morgana.

‘Tea?’ he tried to chirp, edging his way across the room as the cane tapped alongside him.

‘Thank you, sir knight.’

‘Gwaine’s fine. I’m not much of a knight since...Anyway.’ he handed her a scorching mug, placing it tenderly in her lap before retrieving his own, ‘I didn’t believe it when Merlin told me, you know. I thought it might all be a trick to get back into the castle but, seeing you now… Morgana. I am sorry for what Morgause did to you. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.’ he sighed into his tea, ‘We all doubted your good heart, and I’m truly sorry for that.’

When he found the strength to look up, a shudder shot through him as Morgana’s eyes were already burning into his own. She sat still as death itself, gaze unblinking in the firelight. Something had changed in her countenance as she placed down her mug and stroked her curls down one shoulder in a smooth, hypnotic motion, ‘You needn’t apologise Gwaine, especially after all myself and Morgause put you through. Tell me… how did it feel when Percival died?’ Gwaine’s breath quivered at her directness, ‘Did you weep with grief? Did you weep with _joy_?’

The blood rushed through his veins at a deafening volume, but still not high enough to drown out her words. And although his vision blurred from tears, he saw it, for a second flickering under the skin of her bare neck… the unmistakable slither of the Fomorroh still wriggling against her spine.

‘It was a shame he had to die.’

‘What do you mean, Morgana?’

‘Although, you did save me some effort; It was a struggle trying to sneak that poison into his drink every night.’ a smirk ripped open her mouth, ‘But I needn’t have bothered; you’d already killed him with your treachery.’ under hooded eyes she hissed across the room, ‘I’ve heard there is unspeakable pain in dying from a broken heart.’

All the questions racing through his mind made Gwaine dizzy as he stood, all the guilt flooding through his eyes once again like acid. He glared down at her, ‘They said you couldn’t remember anything?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t, sir knight. Nothing from the moment Moraguse saved me from Uther all those years ago. And then…’ She stood up with an athletic strength, marching up to Gwaine until her face was all he could see, ‘And then she found me in the castle. She gave me a gift, and I remembered.’ she gently stroked the serpents slithering in her neck, ‘And now we cannot be stopped.’

With all the strength her muster not to kill her right then, Gwaine managed to steady his words enough to speak, ‘They are not a _gift_ , Morgana. They are Fomorroh and she is using them to control you again. She doesn’t care for you! She will kill you once you have done what she wants!’

‘I will be queen and she will be my right hand, and we will bring magic back to Camelot.’

‘The druids have been accepted! Prince Merlin is a sorcerer and the kingdom is at peace! If Morgause only wanted magic back she would have stopped this, she wants power and she will kill you to get it!.’ his voice died as he looked into the fire, ‘She visited you? In the castle?’ Morgana nodded, pleased he was putting it all together, ‘And you… You helped put together the plan to save Merlin and me…’ the earth stopped moving, ‘He is riding to his death.’

‘And you will meet yours now.’

She raised her hand, the blue-green reef of her eyes beginning to simmer when Gwaine shouted, ‘Wait. Wait! If you’re going to kill me, you will answer me one question, just one.’ he panted in wait until she gently nodded her head, the small silver of the merciful Morgana underneath the enchantment breaking through, perhaps, ‘You were going to poison Percival. Why? He was not written of in the prophecy, he did not want your death. You were in the castle with Arthur and Merlin and Me for months and you could’ve killed us in our sleep wherever you wanted, so why Percival?’

The lady smoothed down her dress with satisfaction at the desperation in Gwaine’s eyes, ‘My dear boy, you are not as clever as the legends have made you out to be, are you? It was never as simple as killing Arthur, not when his people would fight forever for him. But, what is a king with a broken soul? With Percival freed of this mortal coil, it was inevitable that your grief would sing to Merlin like a siren. Oh, and I was right wasn’t I? The first chance you got.’ her words were spat towards him and arrows of shame shot through his chest, ‘You see Gwaine, Percival’s death was nothing more than a means to an end. It will destroy Arthur to know Merlin still loves you. He will lose his will to fight and his people will cry out for someone to save them from the twisted, lifeless man you and Merlin will ensure he becomes. And even if they don’t, he won’t have the will to stop us. The great King Arthur made a martyr by a fallen noble and serving boy.’

‘You’re wrong.’ he whispered, ‘Because I might be scum, but Arthur is a good man, and you cannot break him.’

‘Oh, oh sir knight. I know I can’t, which is why you and Merlin are breaking him for me.’ the furnace in her eyes began to crackle once more, ‘It’s already begun.’

Gwaine closed his eyes. He thought of Percival and their meadow. He thought of Merlin and fire in the south of the forest. He thought of Arthur and the peace he had brought. He thought of his own death, impending on the witch’s lips, and welcomed it.

She raised her hand.

_I love you, Merlin. Take care of him, Arthur._

The magic burned through her veins.

_I’m coming, Percival, and I love you too._

‘INCESCIO!’

_Let me die._

From behind his closed and weeping eyes flashed the white heat of her magic. As hot as the sun it raged through the Cavern. Gwaine held his breath for annihilation.

It didn’t come.

Without air left in his lungs, he reopened his eyes to find the fire bending around him, melting through the boulder of the cave. Not so much as a drop of ash upon him, the fire quelled and left Morgana stood, in silence and confusion, ‘How? How can this be?’

 _’Praesidium_... Just in case.’

Gwaine strode forward with malice in his heart, the words seething through his teeth, ‘I won’t kill you, because there is an innocent woman under that spell, but you tell Morgause, I will rip her heart out with my bare hands before I let her hurt anyone else.’

He didn’t look back as he braced himself into the icy night. He had no horse and only the fast fading trail left by the wagon to guide him, but if he was to be known as strength in the legends, this is where he earned that title.


	69. The Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (7)

The sunlight wouldn’t come. Through the storm raging around him, Gwaine only knew it was dawn by the shrill bird cries as they hurried away from barren trees. The path he was trekking had been long buried in the snow, but he had managed to follow their trail for long enough to realise where they were going to end up. 

Having headed North, trekking through the forest of Essetir away towards the lawless land of Lots kingdom. It was doubtless in Gwaine’s mind that Morgause had planned to intercept them on the way, so he trudged through the knee-deep snow to the shadowed castle in the distance and hoped, in vain, that he was wrong.

From black clouds the purest white snow continued to fall over Albion like a shroud, consuming the land in death before the fight had even begun. Gwaine stopped, resting for a moment against a half-sunken tree trunk to catch his breath. It was only at the moment, all those hours after fleeing the cavern, the Gwaine realised he’d forgotten his cane. Amid the chaos around him, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Catraoine wasn’t joking; _strength_ he clearly was, but his laughter was cut short by the sharp pain against his spine.

‘Sir Gwaine, I presume?’

He turned slowly, the edge of the sword scraping against his clothes to see a leather-clad man smirking at him from his horse, dark hair falling in loose waves across his smirking face. There was no doubt as to who held Gwaine’s life in his hands right then, ‘Cendred.’

He sheathed his sword with a bolstered confidence, ‘Morgana was right, you did come running for him, didn’t you? Pity. About an hour too late...but at least you will be able to see your dear Merlin one last time before his death… if you can see? I’ve heard the dungeons are far too dark. Never visited myself.’ he rolled his shoulders back, ‘I know full well there is no use in threatening you, knight, so you may as well climb on and I’ll take you to him. Unless you want to abandon Merlin for your freedom, which I would allow. His broken heart would be of use actually.’

Jaw clenched, Gwaine held out his arm to be pulled on to Cendred’s horse.

‘Now, that’s a good boy.’

With a crack of his whip, the horse sped towards the distant castle, and Gwaine had no choice but to hold on to Cendred’s waist lest he came crashing back into the snow. He closed his eyes. He had longed to kill Cendred for many years after his men tore Heartly away from Percival, and now it seemed, he might finally have the chance.

…

An hour passed before Cendred’s steed came to a halt by the gates. The tough iron drawbridge lowered to reveal an even darker court. Drab and decayed, Cendred led Gwaine through as though his fallen castle was a bastion of pure gold. With a surprising effort and care, Cendred carefully took Gwaine from his horse, easing his body down into the snow, which Gwaine couldn’t help but notice was spluttered with blood. A few guards hurried towards them both, seizing Gwaine by either arm and awaiting their king's instruction. Cendred took a long look over the knight, his eyes slithering from his dampened boots to the ice dusted in his brunette locks.

‘Take him to the dungeons, ‘but as Gwaine was being hauled away, Cendred called out once more, ‘Wait. No. Take him to the guest chambers and get him looking presentable.’ 

‘Sire?’

He sauntered forward, never once breaking Gwaine’s stare as he did so, ‘You can’t dine with a king looking like a peasant, can you?’

Cendred seemed to enjoy the confusion plastered on Gwaine’s face as he was dragged away up an endless staircase to the highest torrent of the castle. The stone walls were bare save a small portrait of the late Lot, Cendred’s father and predecessor to the throne, but the floor was adorned in fur rugs, leaving not one crack of the actual floor visible and the tread underfoot light and soft. The guards didn’t speak no matter how Gwaine pushed them. No joke got a laugh and no threat got a gasp; they simply did their job. An hour later, after a bath in, he had to admit, blissfully warm waters, of whose delicate lavender smell was enough to soften the rage he felt to his captor, Gwaine found himself waiting at the dining table in the finest silks he’d ever known. Cendred strolled in and took his seat opposite as the servants, ragged and worn from tiredness, presented a feast fit for fifty, rather than just two.

‘You must be hungry, sir knight. Please. Indulge to your heart's content. You are my guest, after all.’

Gwaine pushed his empty plate away from him, ‘Prisoner, I think you mean.’

The king scoffed into his goblet of wine, ‘Well, perhaps when Morgause arrives in the next few days you shall be. But until then…’ he leaned forward, dark eyes shimmering with an astonishing tenacity, ‘It seems a shame to let such a vision rot away in my dungeon, don’t you agree? Wine?’ Gwaine flicked his eyes away as Cendred approached, but couldn’t help admire the leather smoothed over his muscular body; he was only human, after all. The regent poured the maroon liquid into Gwaine’s goblet with a gentle smile playing on his lips, ‘Not much of a talker, are you? Oh well, I’ll just drink in the view instead.’

‘How many people have you killed?’ Gwaine swiped the goblet from Cendred’s hands, taking a swift and bitter sip, ‘I bet you can’t remember, can you?’

Cendred raised the bottle to his lips, ‘Of course I don’t…’

Gwaine snatched the bottle from his hand, ‘So, you don’t remember Hartley?’ the bottle came down on the table with a thud as Gwaine got to his feet, squaring up to the fast fading arrogance in Cendred’s face, ‘And I suppose it doesn’t keep you awake at night how he bled to death in his lover's arms. But I do.’ he sucked his teeth as he sized the shrivelling king up, ‘But when the time comes, _because it will come, Cendred,_ I’ll burn you for it... Oh, and you harm Leon, Elyan, you even _look_ at Merlin...You’ll beg for death by the time I’m done. So save whatever little plan you have.’

For a moment, Gwaine enjoyed the dumbfounded expression, the slight flicker of fear in the tyrant's eyes, but it was short-lived as Cendred reached out to stroke his face, 'Oh, but my dear Gwaine. I have a gift for you.' his fist came crashing down on the table and the doors to his quarters were flung open by the guards. He leaned in, stinking breath serrating Gwaine's jaw, 'I'm not Morgause's dog, I like to have my fun too. And I've brought an old friend to see you. Well, _friend_ might not be the right word.' 

Between the burly guards, a figure hooded in black was brought to his knees. Gwaine's heart stopped, eyes frantically searching in the shadow to see who lay bloodied and bruised underneath. Merlin? Elyan? Leon? Had Cendred captured Arthur? But, to his confusion, he found Cendred placing a dagger in his hands before moving to the prisoner, 'I think this pleasure will be a fair trade for my life, should it come to it, sir knight.' the king flung off the hood, 'I'm not the only one you wish to kill, am I?'

The heeled handle of the blade grew hot in his hand, the burning of his rage searing into the prisoners face. As before him, brought to his fate, lay a helpless and terrified beast that had clouded Gwaine's nightmares for years.

Jarl.


	70. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (8)

It took all the strength Gwaine had not to collapse. His hand smacked down against the table, steadying himself as he gulped air back into his lungs. When Gwaine dared to look, Jarl was staring at the floor, his nose crooked and bloodied; it seems Cendred didn't wait for his arrival to start the beatings of the slave trader. There were too many questions spinning around his head to articulate, culminating in a helpless whimper and the dagger sliding from this grasp.

Cendred gave a hearty laugh and dismissed the guards, leaving Jarl slumped on the ground and blood oozing into the fur beneath, 'Now, dear Gwaine,' he began as he wiped the unsheathed dagger glinting in his own hand, 'I might not know much about loyalty and nobility. My kingdom is decidedly not Camelot but, it is safe to say I have a gift when it comes to knowing the darkness in people. Even one as seemingly upstanding as yourself.’ he pressed the very tip of the blade against Jarls throat, forcing him to look up as his adam’s apple bobbed with fear, ‘We were friends, Jarl and I, weren’t we? But everyone is expendable to a king, especially one who likes to have fun.’

Gwaine’s fingers tugged at his hair, his mind flashing with the images of Allard.

_It’s okay. It’s okay._

The young man’s face, the way the sword went slack in his hand accepting his fate; it all replayed in horrendous detail behind Gwaine’s eyelids.

_Promise me, stay alive. And Julianna…_

And then his mind raced to the sight of Juliana in the distance, Percival holding him tightly.

_I’m sorry you were made to do that. But it wasn’t you who killed him, Gwaine. It was Jarl._

Hot tears stung at his eyes. He could almost feel the Valeria flower being tucked into his hair, smell the sweet scent of Percival and he leaned to put it in. He opened his eyes, cold and scathing at the brute on his knees.

‘Allard.’ he whispered, ‘Allard. Do you remember him?’

So consumed with Jarl, Gwaine didn’t notice the satisfied grin bloom on Cendred’s face.

Jarl shook his head, ‘Who? Should I?’ there was a pleading in his voice which, from the lips of any other would elicit mercy from Gwaine, but there was only malice quietly burning in him now.

Without looking away, Gwaine curled his fingers once more around the fallen knife, slipping to his feet in silence as he stalked his prey, ‘Of course you don’t. He was just fodder for your amusement, wasn’t he? Another young and innocent man, who you knew nothing off, sent to slaughter for you momentary play at power.’ Gwaine slid the blade across his finger, the sharp edge drawing a bulb of blood as he approached to wipe it over Jarls face, ‘I envy you. For I remember every name of every life you forced to take in that pit. Allard; whose lover waited for him to never return…’ the knife slid across Jarls face slowly, achingly, as Gwaine began to repress the hate-filled tears spilling from him, ‘And you won’t remember Severin, who only wished to return to his fathers forge to make him proud…’ he stroked the blade against Jarls other cheek, any guilt of the pain he caused drawing into the bitter arms of revenge, ‘Yates, who longed to run away to Mercia. Franklin, windowed and desperate to return to his children.’ with every name came another cut, another wince, another vain plead for his life, ‘Cederic and his stray dogs. Erwan and his bakery. Or Heath, or James, or Burne, or Lester!’ the blade was tearing into Jarls face, blood sullied with tears of pain, cried drowned out by the blood in his ears, raging and searing, ‘And Karl! And Wilhelm! And Alywin! And Joshua! And…’ Gwaine suddenly stopped. Blood was pouring from Jarl's face to the point where his features became blurred in that waterfall of blood. Catching his breath amid the pleas to stop, Gwaine turned to Cendred, the specs of blood splatters over his hand and against the formerly pure white silk he wore.

Cendred smiled almost lustfully over the goblet of wine hanging just below his lips, ‘Don’t stop on my account.’

‘Why did you bring me Jarl?’

‘As a gift, my…’

‘No. No.’ Gwaine clutched the dagger tighter, trying to hold on against the slip of still-warm blood, ‘Why do you want me to do this?’

An excited smile twitched across Cendred’s lips, ‘I’m giving you a choice.’

Gwaine gently pressed the tip of the blade between his eyebrows, eyes closed tightly with frustration, before letting it fall, ‘Then I choose not to kill him. I won’t be like you, Cendred.’ he looked up to see the king had not moved but rather snarled with excitement, ‘Well? Go on then. Throw me in the dungeon.’

A trembling began in Gwaine’s chest when the sound began. It was horse and pitiful, but nonetheless, a laugh. Jarl wiped the blood from his wounds and grinned, ‘You were right, Cendred, you bastard, you were right.’

‘You silly boy, Gwaine.’ Cendred said, ‘The _choice_ wasn't simply to kill or not to kill Jarl here. Oh no, that would’ve have been far too easy.’ he stroked Gwaine’s jaw with sadistic lust, ‘The choice was to kill him...or watch him kill your friends…’

The silence was cut sharply with Jarls whistle, quickly getting the blade between his teeth and he cleaned off his hands. Gwaine watched as a guard through Merlin through the doors. His pale body was blistered with bruises, arm hanging limply by his side as he fell, whelping in agony. And then Arthur was thrown after him...Still in his armour and face drained with sleepless nights. They’d caught him too.

The blade flashed in Jarl's hands.

Cendred took Gwaine's face into his hands and placed a bitter kiss on his brow, ‘Don’t worry, noble knight, I am not entirely heartless; Only one has to die...and you get to choose..’


	71. His Final Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (9)

His whole body went numb as he looked down at the princes on their knees, reaching out for each other's hands as death loomed over them, ‘Just kill me.’ Gwaine whispered, ‘Just kill me. Let them both live, I...I’ve been ready for a long time.’

‘And why would I do that, dear Gwaine?’ Cendred slithered his hands through Gwaine’s hair, ‘You’re the spoils of the war I’m about to win. Besides, no fun otherwise.’ he cocked his head over to the pitiful rulers of Camelot, ‘I’ll give you some time.’ he shoved Jarl out the door before him and gave a low, sarcastic bow before the three were left in the silence of what was to come.

Gwaine fell to his knees, both him and Merlin wrapping their arms around Arthur.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Gwaine whispered.

Arthur sighed, ‘Hadn't had word about either of you for a day; I couldn’t risk it.’ and then he laughed, one hand on each man's face, ‘I was right not to.’

‘You should have stayed safe in Camelot.’

‘Oh Merlin, you don’t know me at all do you?’ he pressed his cracked lips to his prince, ‘Ever since we met I was riding to my death to save you, why would I stop now?’

_And when we return, you will be with Arthur, as it is meant to be. And I will love you from afar, as it is meant to be. _Well, Gwaine thought to himself, Avalon is far enough away. With urgency, the knight clambered to his still unsteady feet and began ransacking all the drawers and cupboards. He threw down the tangle of jewels and goblets with frustration, ‘There must be something! There’s got to be something!’__

__Arthur shook his head with a sad smile, ‘There won’t be. Cendred is careful. The only weapon is in Jarl's hands now.’ he kissed Merlin’s soft hair, breathing in his smell tenderly._ _

__‘I should’ve just killed him! I should have just slaughtered that bastard where he stood! Why did I hesitate instead of…’_ _

__‘Because you’re a good man, Gwaine. I think you forgot it a long time ago, but you are. You’re stronger than us all.’ he took Merlin’s hand which pawed at his chest plate, ‘Hush now my love, it will be okay.’_ _

__Gwaine pulled at his hair, the anguish burning molten through his fragile body, ‘No Arthur. No, if I hadn't been a coward then…’_ _

__‘For god's sake Gwaine!’ Arthur cut in, almost with a shout, ‘Do you really think if you’d have killed Jarl that Cendred would’ve spared us all? He just would have made you do it instead! Just… Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?’ The last words were spoken in earnest, the pale blue of Arthurs tired eyes gathering all their composure to hammer the point home to that broken man in front of him, ‘It isn’t your fault and you are a good man.’ he then clung to the still silent Merlin in desperation, closing his eyes as though to memorise the way it felt to have him in his arms._ _

__The door swung open and Gwaine wasted no time in knocking Cendred to the floor and disarming Jarl. He held the knife to the slave driver throat and began to push when a hoard of guards marched in after them; just as quickly as Gwaine assumed the upper hand, he was shoved aside powerless._ _

__The faceless guards pulled Merlin away from Arthur's arms, and while he squirmed and cried out, Arthur stayed ever so still, just looking at him, just twirling the wedding ring on his finger._ _

__Cendred held out a hand to help Gwaine up, which was reluctantly taken only yo be pulled in Cendreds body, his hot breath against his neck from behind as he held Gwaine up, ‘I like feisty.’ he whispered, the manacles of his arms keeping Gwaine from turning away as Jarl stood waiting with the blade, ‘Have you made your choice, sir knight?’_ _

__‘I won’t choose.’ his words punched through the stagnant air, ‘Kill me if you want, but I refuse to condemn either of them to death.’_ _

__Cendred’s hand began to wander, the tips of his fingers clawing like needles into Gwaine’s skin, ‘Oh you fool. Arthurs knows, don’t you, _noble king_? Go on...What happens if your little friend doesn’t choose.’_ _

__Arthur rubbed his eyes, ‘Then we both die. Gwaine… There’s no getting out of this.’_ _

__‘There has to be.’ Merlin said, his body convulsing with grief before slacking into numbness, ‘I’ll kill you myself, Cendred, I’ll rip your heart out with my bare hands.’_ _

__The threat was met with nothing more than a withering laugh, cauterizing the last trickle of hope in any of their hearts. Gwaine brought his eyes to look at them. Merlin, bruised and beaten. Arthur, exhausted and head bowed in defeat. Camelot needed them both. They needed each other. How could he… How _dare_ he choose between them? The conflict in his mind must’ve been noticeable, as Cendred’s stinking breath was at his ear once more, ‘You can’t decide, can you? Well, let’s break it down. Arthur is the once and future king, the man the legends spoke of who would unite the lands of Albion and return peace and magic to the kingdom, improving the lives of all. A strong choice to let him live...But we both know you’re hardly governed by the cold hard facts, dear knight, you rule with your heart, don’t you? So, then there’s Merlin. Little serving boy with magic tricks who fucked his way into power. With Arthur out the way, you could finally have him to yourself, hell, you might even be king! I think I’d let you as well, once I’ve had my fun with you, anyway. Apologies in advance, Merlin. I rather intend to ruin Gwaine beyond repair but I’m sure you can put him back together.’ he bit into Gwaine’s neck, ‘What’s it to be?’_ _

__He struggled, but it was useless. Strength was too weak now, too hollowed out and defeated, ‘I...I choose…’_ _

__Arthur got to his feet before Gwaine uttered a name, his armour scraping together with the struggle of his muscles. The guards went to restrain him again, but Cendred held out his hand, too curious to see what the limping wreck of a king would try._ _

__He leaned onto Gwaine, a tight embrace both to stand and to go out with dignity. Into the knight's ear, he breathed the words, ‘Don’t worry, old friend. I won’t make you kill the man we love.’_ _

__Arthur wrenched himself away and kneeled before Jarls feet. He tried to stop it, but Cendred held Gwaine back with a strength he couldn’t conquer, as the guards did for Merlin, the room shaking with the rage and fear of his magic._ _

__Jarl lifted the blade high into the air._ _

__Arthur took one last look at Merlin._ _

__‘Take of him for me, Gwaine. Take care of him for…’_ _

__The blade swung down._ _

__The once and future king, in his final act, died for love._ _


	72. A Serving Boy in Silks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Ten (10)

The second after it happened, there was a tremendous cry, and then blackness. Gwaine awoke some days later, body strewn over the rubble of Cendred’s castle. He turned, seeing a flicker of red in the corner of his eye to the unholy sight of Cendred’s body before his head fell bacon onto the crumbling stone with a tide of nausea; Merlin hadn’t given an empty threat it seemed.

Broken ribs reached out like dead hands from Cendred’s chest, masts of sinew and tissue blowing from them in the breeze. He crawled over to look again, quelling the sickness in his throat, to see the empty cavity where the king's heart had supposedly once been. Gwaine couldn’t bring himself to see the charred organ cast beside it, already seeing too vividly the flames leaping from Merlin’s hands to burn it. Aside from the hollowed corpse, Gwaine found himself alone to assess the rubble. Cendred’s castle had once stood as grand and magnificent as Camelots, but now was nothing more than a desert of dust. _Deity_ now seemed too small a word to encapsulate Merlin’s power.

In the distance, Gwaine heard a faint moan. He propped himself up to attempt to stand, finding at least one of his ribs had cracked, sending a shockwave of pain out of his mouth in his own cry.

‘Gwaine?’ the voice called out, just before Leon appeared over the mountains of debris, ‘Gwaine! You’re alive!’ The knight rushed towards him, clasping at a wound on his abdomen as he gathered speed, but he stopped short at Cendred’s body, retching the moment the sight met his eyes.

With effort, Gwaine got up to meet Leon halfway, stepping carefully so his body would obscure the body behind him, ‘What the hell happened, Leon?’

‘Fucked if I know.’ it was the first time he’d heard the knight swear, but if there was an occasion, this would be it, ‘I was in the dungeon with Merlin and Arthur was thrown in the cell opposite. Then...they took them both and...Oh my memory it’s...It was quiet and then suddenly the walls started shaking. I think I got hit with something and passed out. I only just woke up. Where’s Merlin and Arthur, have you seen them?’

There were no tears left to cry, only numb shock for both of them as Gwaine explained Arthur’s sacrifice. They stood in silence for a moment, the birds chirping in the trees as though the world hadn’t been brought crashing down around them all, the wind still breathing life into the trees audaciously, as though nature had no respect for the profound loss of the noble king.

‘We need to get back to Camelot to…’

‘No, Leon. _You_ need to get back to Camelot; You need to make sure Catraoine is safe. Besides, I’m still too weak, I’ll only slow you down and if Camelot needs someone to lead them through this, I can’t think of a more worthy man.’ Gwaine steeled himself, ‘I need to find Merlin.’

‘He’ll be back in the castle. Surely?’

‘No. No, he wouldn't be able to face it. Or himself…’ Gwaine took a breath and placed both hands on Leon’s shoulders, ‘I will return with Merlin as soon as I can, but you mustn't wait any longer; you have people who need you in Camelot.’

There was reluctance in Leon, to leave his dear friend wounded in the battlefield, but also the understanding this it was his duty to go, ‘Good luck, Gwaine. I hope we meet again.’

‘As do I, friend. As do I.’

Leon began to walk away, and Gwaine let himself watch for a moment, wishing that at least one person in that monstrosity of a world would get to live and see his wife and child grow up and prosper, before turning away to his own tragedy. He started walking towards the trees, the snow of the night before now turning the earth beneath his feet into mulch.

Truth be told, for the first hour of that walk, Gwaine was directionless, his mind still spinning, until he saw a tiny fire up ahead. It wasn’t Merlin there, just some traders on their way from one tiny village to another, wholly unaware of the battles being fought, but it reminded Gwaine of something. Years ago, after they’d fled the village of Howden from the Dorcha, those figures silhouetted in the torchlight, vulnerable and finally confessing their love for one another. That’s where he’d go, so Gwaine, as always and forever, followed.

His cracked rib slowed the journey down to a full day and night, and the pain or reaching down to forage lest he starve, came with the bitter sting of sharp bone under soft flesh. He arrived but didn’t realise, for the rolling farmland had grown into a dense meadow of flowers, blooming like spring despite the frost. Merlin huddled atop the hill underneath the trees. Gwaine sat down next to him, but it wasn’t until his touch was met with a terrified flinch Merlin even knew he was there.

‘Get away from me, Gwaine.’

The knight bit his lip in shame, ‘We need to get you back to Camelot. You’re the sole prince now; you have to rule.’

‘And who’s fault is that?’ the words were flung like venom at Gwaine, but the hurt in his eyes showed he only blamed himself, ‘I tried every spell. Useless, fucking useless!’ a streak of flames ripped through the flowers, cracking life from the land like a whip.

‘There was nothing you could have done.’

‘Bet you’re happy.’ Gwaine felt his stomach drop at the accusation, ‘You were going to choose him to die anyway, weren’t you? Arthur knew that, that’s why he chose to sacrifice himself, even though you were going to condemn him to death, he wanted to save you the pain of living with it. Cendred was right; you would get me all to yourself.’

Merlin began to shake, unable to meet Gwaine’s gaze after those hateful words, but the knight was too tired to get angry, ‘I was going to choose you, Merlin. Because Camelot needed Arthur, and because choosing him to die was always going to break your heart more than hearing me end your life.’ the Deity broke into open sobbing, ‘I love you, Merlin; with no demand or selfishness. It should be Arthur here, not me.’

‘Just. Go.’

Gwaine rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t physically strong enough to drag Merlin back to Camelot, and the truth was it would break the man's heart to return to he and Arthur’s home without him, ‘What do I tell the knights when I return then?’

‘I don’t know Gwaine. I don’t know and I don’t care and I’m not a fucking ruler. I was only a Prince because Arthur married...married me. I’m a serving boy in silks; a sham. Camelot is better off without me.’ The sun had begun to rise above them, and Merlin buried his gaze down at his feet, undeserving of that warmth, his words trailing into silence, ‘I’m not going to try and join Arthur before you ask. But I also can’t go back, and I cannot be with you; I betrayed him in life, Gwaine, I can’t betray him in death.’

Gwaine nodded, and got up without a word, for there was no response that would change Merlin’s mind. He thought back to that night outside Howden, of Merlin asleep on Arthur’s lap as the Prince battled between sacrificing himself for Camelot, and desperately wanting to keep living, for Merlin.

_‘If you do this Arthur, no better man is waiting for Merlin. There’s no one who he loves more. So, I’m telling you, not as a knight but as your friend, you cannot sacrifice yourself. We will find another way because I’ll tell you now, princess, If you go and die now and leave Merlin all alone in this world, I’ll reach through that veil myself just slap some sense into you.’_

‘Oh Arthur.’ Gwaine whispered, ‘It should have been me.’ and with that final goodbye breathed into the wind, he left Merlin on that hill and returned to the kingdom of Camelot.


	73. The Little Saviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (1)

The skin of Albion's green and pleasant land was torn apart with battle wounds. Deep gouges of earth spilt with mud as the limbs of trees snapped broken and limp. Gwaine himself was in no better condition with the jagged edge of a rib cutting deeper with every step. He crouched down to sit, only to fall off the rock he’d chosen and crumple on the floor deciding, defeatedly, to lay there a while, maybe even forever. His eyes lazily wandered over the ruined village, scorch marks of fire laying waste to the farmhouses and barns, all doubtlessly cast by Morgause on her quest to conquer the citadel. All the tension in his body melted then, realizing there may not even be a Camelot to return to.

Percy was gone.  
Arthur was gone.  
Merlin was never coming back.

What was the whole point of it then?

If he lay there long enough with the wound...well, time would work its magic. Free him of that mortal torture. Finally.

He sighed. Didn’t cry or scream. Gwaine just rolled over in apathy and waited for the sky to turn black and everything else with it.

‘Hello?’

He rubbed his eyes and flicked his eyes towards the village.

‘Are you dead?’

The voice was so faint, so scared, so...small. Gwaine propped himself up on an elbow and peered across the ruins. He couldn’t see anyone and it wouldn’t be the first time despair made him hallucinate. 

‘Why are you lying on the ground? My mum says the ground is dirty, that’s why I didn’t get to play outside with the boys.’

Gwaine still couldn’t see any movement, but called back nonetheless, ‘Where are you?’ he winced before he muttered, ‘If you are real, that is.’

From behind one of the houses, a little girl poked her head around, giving a shy wave before receding behind the falling wall once more. Her hair had been carefully braided down her back and fastened with a neat purple ribbon, but that had been some days ago, as wispy strands had made their loose across her face with dirt tangled to it.

Gwaine, with profound difficulty, managed to get himself into a sitting position against the rock he’d fallen off, ‘Where’s your mam?’ The little girl shook her head, ‘Your dad?’ she shook again, but this time with her whole body, ‘Is there no one else here?’

‘They...There was a lady.’ the girl looked down at her feet, ‘She wasn’t very nice.’

‘What did the lady…’

‘I hit her with a big stick!’

Gwaine couldn’t help but smile to himself, ‘Did you now?’

‘Mum told me I shouldn’t do that, but the lady was very mean, and I tripped her over and that was good but then...She got meaner. What’s wrong with you then?’ the girl suddenly bounded forward, coming to an abrupt stop at Gwaine’s outstretched legs. She scrunched up her face before picking up a stick not far away, and gently poked him in the shoulder, ‘You’re not with that evil lady, are you? Because I can hit you too, you know. I’m not scared of anything!’

He laughed only to get stung with more pain, ‘I am not with the bad lady. In fact, me and my friends are trying to stop her, so there’s no need for the stick. Besides, broken rib, can barely walk let alone fight a knight of the realm.’

The little girl looked around her, ‘But...There are no knights here?’

‘You’re a knight aren’t you? You fight bad people with sticks. I assumed the stick was because someone stole your sword.’ Gwaine lent back a bit more, trying to keep his composure through the pain; the little girl was frightened enough as it was, ‘What’s your name then, eh?’

‘Ysmenie.’

‘Well, Lady Ysmenie. I’m on my way back to Camelot, do you know Camelot?’ she nodded excitedly, ‘And the thing is, I’ve been injured in battle, so I could really use a knight to protect me on the journey back.’ he pulled out a dagger from his boot, taking the blade in his hand so the handle faced her, ‘I think my sword is too big for you, but hopefully this will do until you can get your proper sword back, yeah?’

Ysmenie took the dagger into her hands, eyes wide and bright at the jewelled handle, before vigorously agreeing, ‘Okay! I can do that! Dad always said I was brave!’

Gwaine inched himself up to stand, limping towards Ysmenie with a gentle smile, before bowing his head down to speak low, ‘Is there anyone here you need to say goodbye to?’

‘No. Not now.’

‘Okay then. Let’s get back to the castle, then.’

He began to walk when her tiny hand reached out and grabbed his, ‘The castle? Prince Arthur's Castle! Do you know him? Are you part of the royal household? I bet you’re a chef...no, no, I bet you’re one of the stable hands! Because I found you outside and they work outside with all the horses and…’

Little Ysmenie skipped alongside him as the sun rose into noon, babbling with excitement about seeing the shining citadel and all the courtiers in their finery as though it was the best thing in the world. The smile on Gwaine’s face was genuine then, after never thinking he could smile again, there he was.

‘...And and a...and then! Then you have to braid their tails, don’t you? For all the knights to ride around on.’

‘I’m not sure what the stable boys do, Lady Ysmenie.’

‘So, what do you do in the castle then?’

‘I’m one of the knights of the round table.’

‘You’re a knight!’ she cried, and all the blackbirds flew from their perches, rising the sweet joy in her voice.


	74. The Flower in his Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (2)

Ysmenie was four years old, Gwaine had been told, fifteen times in total, and that meant she was a grown-up and he should stop telling her to be _careful with that damn dagger_! She was very good at identifying flowers, something which her mother taught her as consellation for not letting her play soldiers, and Gwaine endured kneeling down to have them stuck in his hair at odd angles until a small meadow was springing from his crown. Gwaine noticed she got nervous as the sun went down, perhaps scared of the dark or remembering whatever had happened to her village, and would take herself off behind the nearest tree to cry, assuming that to not be seen meant to not be heard either. That was until Gwaine lopped off the bottom half of his cloak and fastened it around her one evening. _This way, Lady Ysemnie, all the ghosts and ghouls will know you are a knight and leave you well alone._. She seemed to sleep better after that.

He found his mind had been clear in that trek back to Camelot, as every spare moment was occupied by keeping Ysmenie safe. Gwaine didn’t exactly know where he was going with this, but he could hardly leave an orphaned child alone, and truth be told, they got on quite well. They weren’t far from Camelot, but Gwaine decided to set up camp anyway, delaying the sight of where the war was fought. Through the trees, he could still see the castle standing. It looked battered but unbroken; he could only hope they had been successful. He sat down beneath one of the trees opposite Ysemnie, curled up in her cloak and looking quite asleep when he noticed it. Three feet above her head and a slight bit to the left, the deep gouge mark of his sword. The ground beneath him was suddenly familiar and his eyes watered at the memory of Merlin, sneaking out of the castle to lie with him by the fire, the butterfly leaping from the flames. Without his companions' distractions, it suddenly hit him. Gwaine had lost everyone. He spent his youth without friends or family. He’d barely made friends with the other knights, too caught up in love with Percy, and then earning their justified disdain for still loving Merlin. The only _friend_ he really had was Arthur, of all people, and even the legendary king himself now in Avalon's waters. He hoped he found Percy there. He hoped they were sitting on his porch with Heartly, the sun setting golden, and infinitely peaceful.

Then there was Merlin.

Merlin.

Gwaine bit his lip for long enough to check Ysemnie was asleep before he gave in to the sobs. They rolled through him like a thunderstorm, each wave punching down in his stomach. He clapped a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to regain his control, but in vain. His body collapsed in on itself leaving him no choice but to bring his knees up and bury his face between them, but he knew he had to get a hold of himself. With a swallow and a brisk wipe of his nose, he pushed back the crying; there was no time for that now. Gwaine rubbed his eyes clean of their tears to check on Ysmenie and shot to his feet seeing nothing but her tiny cloak on the floor.

‘Ysmenie! Ysmenie!’ he was bellowing, feet crashing down in their sprint through the trees, ‘Ysmenie, where are you?’ he drew his sword, spotting her footprints in the mud going towards the castle, his tone becoming frantic, desperate, ‘Ysmenie!’ Then, in a small clearing illuminated by the moon, he saw her plodding along, thoughtfully picking at the flowers. He rushed forward and scooped her up so suddenly she let out a yelp until she realised it was Gwaine, ‘What the hell are you doing? You don’t go running off like that, it’s dangerous out here!’ 

‘You were sad. You look all small when you’re sad.’

‘I...I’m fine.’ he tried to smile, ‘You don’t need to worry about me. Why did you run off? What’s wrong?’

She reached up a hand and stuck another flower into his hair, putting another in his free hand. He looked down and saw a soft pink strand of delicate blooms, and steeled himself as Ysmenie spoke, ‘It’s Valerian. It means strength...And it’s pink! So, you can smile at it...If you want...I do…’

‘Let's go back to Camelot.’ he mouthed, completely overcome. He kept Ysmenie in the crook of his arm, balanced on the unbroken ribs and going slowly to retrieve her cloak, ‘Do you want to hear a story?’ the little girl nodded excitedly, ‘So, once upon a time, there lived the noblest and kindest of knights, and his name, was Sir Percival…’


	75. The New Age of Albion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (3)

‘Did he have a magic sword?’

‘He didn’t need one; he could move boulders with his bare hands!’

‘No one is that strong!’

‘Sir Percival was; the first time I met him, he rolled a boulder the size of man over the edge of the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Saved my life...Saved everyone’s life!’ Gwaine looked up from Ysemnie as they approached the gates of the citadel. It was quite, far too quiet for the bustling heart of the capital, ‘Right. Here we go. Ysmenie?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I...I don’t know what’s through these gates, so I need you to promise to close your eyes until I say so...okay?’

She dutifully closed her eyes and buried her face into Gwaine’s shoulder. No guards were on the entrance and the mighty doors swung open, loose on their hinges, as Gwaine pressed on. Where the market had once been there were just empty stalls, the broken wheels of wagons splintered across the ground as good rolled past with the gentle wind; not a person in sight. He attempted to ignore the flecks of blood on the tavern door and the scorch marks of fire that lead a trail towards the castle, pretending he didn’t hear the crunch of fresh ash underfoot.

‘Still got your eyes shut?’

‘Mmmhmm!!’ the little girl tried to sound enthusiastic, but he could feel her begin to hold him tighter, ‘Can you keep telling me stories? She asked in a small voice.

‘Alright, alright…’ Gwaine snaked around the corner of the tavern, ‘One time, quite long ago, a witch unleashed terrible creatures called Doracha upon Albion…’ the castle grew closer, ‘She was being controlled by another, evil witch, who wanted the land for herself. The Dorcha would swoop down and freeze all those they attacked.’ Gwaine cupped the back of her head, pressing her face into his shoulder in case the temptation to look overcame her, ‘So, Prince Arthur decided to ride out with his knights, and Merlin, to save the people at the Isle of the Blessed. He vowed to sacrifice his own life for the sake of the kingdom.’ A band of royal horses galloped past, freed from their harnesses, the first sign of life whisked away past the castle entrance, ‘When he arrived, however, he was suddenly cast into a deep sleep, for Merlin would not let him die. He battled the keeper of the Veil with his magic; magic which was the most powerful in all of Albion, and defeated her. But when Arthur woke, Merlin was nowhere to be seen.’ At his feet, small shards of shattered glass crunched beneath his feet, directly under the torrent which held at its peak the Sorcerer's quarters, ‘The king searched day and night for him tirelessly. Unable to accept the man he loved had sacrificed himself. Then, one shining morning, when all hope was lost…’ there was a faint sound from the castle steps, ‘Merlin appeared back in Camelot, and the kingdom wept in joy.’

‘Gwaine! Gwaine!’ he looked up to the sudden voice, the hurry of running footsteps.

‘Catraoine!’ he cried in elation, sprinting towards her.

She flung her arms around him, squeezing him so tightly the jagged rib in his side pushed through a new layer of flesh. Feeling his wincing, she spread her fingers over the wound and whispered, the flash of gold in her eyes ending the endless days of pain.

He cradled his face in her hands, ‘I was beginning to think I might never see you again. Leon said…’

‘Yeah.’

‘And Merlin?’

He shook his head, ‘He’s alive. But he…’

‘I thought as much.’ she flicked her eyes then to the little girl in his arms, cocking her head in a silent question.

Gwaine gently tapped her on the back, ‘Ysemenie. You can open your eyes now, there’s someone you need to meet.’ she turned to Catraoine, eyes sparkling like two emeralds, ‘This is Catraoine. Catraoine, this is Ysemnie, she is a knight and had protected me on my way back to Camelot, haven’t you?’ she gave a shy nod as Gwaine carried on in a hushed tone, ‘I found her in a village near Cendred’s kingdom, you understand?’ Gwaine steadied himself, ‘What happened?’

The led weight of his heart sprouted wings and lifted as a grief-stricken smile made its way onto Catraoine’s face, ‘We won. Come, there is much to discuss.’ she placed a hand on Ysmenie’s shoulder, ‘This meeting we are going to have needs all the knights of the realm to be present, Lady Ysmenie. So, we will need you at the round table to help us decide what we are to do. You’re not too tired are you?’

‘Nope! But I am a bit hungry.’

‘Then I’ll make sure there is food laid on. Come on.’ she tenderly took Gwaine’s arm in her own and they walked silently into the grand castle of Camelot.

The moment they were through the doors, Gwaine realised why the streets had been so empty; it seemed every single person had been crammed into the great halls for refuge against the attack.

‘It was Leon’s idea.’ Catraoine answered the question on his face, ‘I imbued the castle in a protection spell so it could be used as a stronghold while the stronger of us fought on the front line. He saved an awful lot of lives this way.’

‘And you fought on the frontline? While pregnant?’

She turned to him with stern eyes, ‘The duty to my people comes with no exceptions.’

She pushed open the doors to the throne room, where all of the knights and council members rose from their seats upon seeing Gwaine in toe; Leon rushing over to him for a hug. The proceedings began with what all their already knew, but that which needed to be formalised; the noble King Arthur had sacrificed himself, and Prince Merlin would not return to rule alone. Thus, Camelot needed a new monarch, on which they must all decide.

Leon cleared his throat, glad to get away from the emotion rising in his voice and on with the practicalities, ‘Camelot is without a leader, and it will today, in this very chamber, that we decide the future of this Kingdom for the good of the people. During their reign, Arthur and Merlin did not name a successor, so many of us here have begun to draw up a list of those most suited.’

Ysmenie raised her hand, eager to contribute, ‘What what, what about Gwaine, he could be king!’

All those at the round table, Gwaine included, couldn’t help but snigger, ‘Oh, I don’t think anemone deserves _that_ ; they’ve been through enough.’ he joked, Guinevere and Catraoine losing themselves for a moment in laughter, ‘But thank you, Ysemnie, it was a very kind suggestion.’

‘We’ll make a knight of you yet!’ chuckled Leon.

‘And we’ll make monarchs of you and Cataroine, yet.’ Gwaine said with determination, leading the smiles from both of their faces to drop as he got to his feet, leaning down on the table with his fists. He slid Leon’s list towards himself, shaking his head with a faint laugh at the suggestions of distant uncles and aunts of the Pendragon dynasty, ‘Catraoine, you lead the defence against Morgause with expertise and immense bravery. Leon, you devised the best plan to help save the people while you fought out on the front line together. And, quite frankly, the way neither of you has put yourselves on this here list only speaks more to your humble natures and inherent nobility. Your union ensures magic will forever be free in Camelot and cements the bond between Druids and common folk. You have an heir on the way already, giving the kingdom stability for at least two generations. I don’t think there is any better choice.’

The pair were stunned with even the confident Catraoine bowing her head in near embarrassment at such a suggestion. Then, Guinevere took to her feet as well, Lance shortly after, ‘Well said.’ she concurred, ‘I think you would make fine and fair rulers.’

‘Here, here!’ came the voices of the knights and council members, all standing in their support.

With her signature gravitas, Catraoine brought the assembly to an abrupt hush with a raise of her hand, ‘Gwaine. I thank you for your words, but no. The druids do not have rulers, we do not have kings and queens. We decide on everything as a collective and to become queen would be a betrayal of my people. I cannot accept.’

The knight mulled this over for a moment, rolling the refusal about his head for a solution, ‘Then change it.’ The crowd gave a small gasp, ‘The people lived under Uther’s tyrannical reign for too long with no say and no rights. Take the throne, then demolish it and the old ways, if that is what the people wish.’

Leon furrowed his brows. Having been raised in a noble household since birth to pursue the life of a knight, ripping apart the very system he was born for sat uneasily in his stomach. But then again, he thought as he looked over to his wife, having a baby out of wedlock and marrying a druid priestess wasn’t exactly what he was _meant_ to have done, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. He reached for Catroine’s hand and nodded, ‘Yes. Yes, let’ do this.’

Ysmenie was the first to start clapping, leading the congregation into uproarious applause; the new age of Albion was coming, and Gwaine did not doubt its glory.

Gwaine picked Ysmenie up to walk to his quarters but found his feet leading him to Gaiuses chambers. The old man, with a raise of his eyebrow at Ysemnie, had a canny way of reading people; Gwaine saw his heart sink when Merlin didn’t follow them through. He also nodded, before Gwaine had even ventured to ask, and gestured to Merlin’s former room. Ysemnie was introduced and Gauis quickly got chatting to her about medicine and magic and answering all her questions about Prince Merlin that Gwaine was too choked up to verbalise, as the knight gently shut the door behind him. 

_THREE MONTHS LATER_

Ysmenie didn’t like it. Happened about once a week now, even though Gwaine thought that flimsy door was soundproof and foolishly always believed her when she said she was going to sleep, not noticing the books from Gauis's shelf going missing every night to be read by the lamp until the early hours. She never knew what set him off, but would suddenly hear him replying to someone, hearing half a conversation. This night was no different, except that she dared to tiptoe across the creaky floorboards and press her ear to listen.

Gwaine lay down his head to sleep, his body, so slender and weak, welcoming the soft embrace of that single bed.

_I miss you, Gwaine._

The knight shot up from where he lay. He scanned the room but no one was there.

_I miss you more than I can bear, actually._

‘M...Merlin?’ he whispered.

_But I can’t come back. Not after...Not after all that happened._

Gwaine held on to the tremor in his voice, ‘Merlin.’ he began steadily, ‘Where are you? I can come to you.’

_No matter what I do, I can’t stop loving you. It’s a curse; it always had been, you and me._

‘Please Merlin.’ he wept, ‘Please, please come back to…’

_I don’t even know if you can hear me. I almost hope you can’t, I’m a pitiful fool right now._

Gwaine clapped a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to hold back the sobs and not wake Ysmenie.

_They’ll be someone else, you know. Someone who will love you like Percy did, without tragedy lacing every word between you both. You can get that cottage you spoke of… I need to stop this, don’t I? ___

__Gwaine reached out into the thin air to pull Merlin back._ _

___I’m just hurting us both this way. I...Goodbye Gwaine._ _ _

__‘No…’ his whisper swelled into a pleading cry, ‘No! Merlin! Merlin, come back! Please! Please.’ he threw himself to the floor in his crying while Ysmenie, behind the door, finally understood why Gwaine couldn’t tell stories of his Merlin without grief in his eyes._ _


	76. The Years That Went By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (4)

_FOUR MONTHS SINCE GWAINE RETURNED TO CAMELOT_

Lancelot sat down at the dressing table, head cradled in his hands as the courtiers bustled past through the door. Before him, Gwen elegantly smoothed down her dress of lilac silk and kindly beckoned him over with the small basket of flowers. She began placing them on her crown as Lance, trying to remember with as much precision as he could muster, how to braid them in at the back.

All the bustling outside suddenly turned into a hurried clash of metal and glasses crashing to the floor, ‘Sorry Mary! I’ll get you a new one!’ a thump against the wall, ‘Oh christ that hurts!’ and then, hopping around the corner, Gwaine appeared.

One hand on the unstable door, he turned wide-eyed to the pair getting ready, panting with the exertion of running in his full ceremonial armour.

‘Are you okay, Gwaine?’ Lance laughed.

‘It’s Ysmenie.’ Gwen and Lance dropped everything and began rushing towards him when he raided a hand, ‘No, no she’s fine! Sorry, I, oh god I can’t get my breath...Gwen. I need your help. Desperately. And Lance, if you want to come too and bring a stiff drink that would be great as well.’

A few moments later, the trio arrived down in Gaius’s chambers to see little Ysmenie sat on the floor pouting. Her clothes were clean and pretty, her basket of flowers ready for the celebration, but her hair was...well, _big_.

‘I managed to get some of the knots out, Gwaine, but I really don’t know how you did this.’ said the old physician, creaking up on his feet, ‘You’ll have your work cut out for you Gwen.’

Gwaine, whose own hair was a complete mess from stress by now, looked helplessly at Gwen, ‘She saw the flowers in your hair and said she wanted to look like you. So, I got the flowers but they wouldn’t stay in so…’

‘The secret is to cut the stems as the root so you can pull them through more easily.’ chimed in Lance, eager to let Gwen know he really had been paying attention.

Gwen knelt by Ysmenie, ‘Right. Me and Lance are going to get your right for the celebration, but I’m going to need to brush out all the knots, so be brave, alright?’

Gwen untangled the hair as gently as she could while Lance set about seeing which flowers were salvageable. Gwaine watched them and downed a whole flagon of ale wiping the sweat off his brow.

‘Do you want me to sort out your hair, Gwaine?’ said Gauis, waggling a brush at him, ‘You can’t go to the Naming Ceremony like that.’ he had no energy to argue, and while feeling like a child himself, let Gauis brush his hair, much to Ysmenie’s delight.

‘Are there any flowers left for Gwaine?’ she wiggled her feet with excitement as Lance showed her a few left at the bottom of the basket and pointed at the one she wanted.

Lance came over with a grin and tucked the biggest, pinkest Dahlia behind his ear, before sliding an Iris behind his own, ‘Solidarity.’

Gwen helped Ysmenie up, her dark hair now silky and intricately braided down her back, and they all made their way, past the Throne room, and out to the forest through the citadel gates. 

The whole kingdom had arrived for the Naming Ceremony of Leon and Catraoine’s firstborn, who now giggled in her dad's arms a healthy three weeks old. The heir of the new Camelot was to be named: Sapphira.

_ONE YEAR SINCE GWAINE RETURNED TO CAMELOT_

‘Elyan, will you please calm down, we are going to be fine! It’s one night!’ Leon nudged him as the knight looked down at the two little children.

‘Leon, I don’t know how children work. What do we do?’

Gwaine and Catraoine gave a hearty laugh as they grabbed their coats, ‘Just play with them, Elyan, you’ve faced scarier foes. Make sure they eat…’ she waggled Ysmenie’s ear, ‘But proper food, not just all the sweet things, young knight! Leon knows what he’d doing and…’ right on cue, Lance ran through the door with a giant chest, beaming ear to ear, ‘Leon knows what he’s doing and Lance is all eager to learn. Congratulations by the way!’

He began unpacking a chest full of dressing up clothes and toys, ‘Thanks Catra. You’ll take good care of Gwen tonight won’t you?’

‘Of course, we will. See you all later.’

At the tavern, Gwaine grabbed the first round and unsteadily carried it back to their table, ‘Right. Orange juice for Gwen, and ale for me and Catraoine.’ he unloaded six flagons each and rolled the tray under the table, ‘To parenthood!’

The three of them gave a cheer, Catraoine downing her first flagon in one go and quickly picking up the second, ‘I'm so knackered. Don’t worry Gwen, being a mother is wonderful, but also I haven’t slept in two weeks, so I will be venting somewhat. As I’m sure you will be petal.’ she turned her gaze to Gwaine, whose eyes were sunken in their sockets from exhaustion and so weak he could barely stomach his pint.

Gwen gave a little chuckle, ‘Ahh. So, this is what me and Lance have to look forward to.’ she took a dainty sip of her juice, one hand over her belly that had begun to swell in the last month, ‘It’s official then, Gwaine? You’ve adopted Ysmenie.’

He gave a sigh, but also couldn’t help but smile, ‘Well...yeah. Seems that way. To be honest with you, I intended to get her settled and then find someone to take care of her properly, make sure I had money to give them and… Well, then we were going to the market, this was just before she turned five, to get some supplies and she...she…’ Gwen and Catraoine instinctively both reached out to Gwaine’s shoulder as he began to cry, ‘Then she called me dad.’ he sniffled and tried to laugh it off, failing miserably ‘And well, that was me done for. In it for life now. She wants me to train her on the sword too and I’ll be damned if I could find anyone to do it better than me.’ 

Gwen shuffled closer on her chair, an uncharacteristically cheeky grin on her face, ‘Not to break the moment but...three o’clock.’ she slid her eyes around to a young man at the bar, who having been spotted looking at Gwaine, huddled back over his beer in embarrassment, ‘It is your day off after all…’

‘Gweniever!’ Gwaine couldn’t help be burst into laughter, especially when Catraoine, the now _queen_ of the realm leaned back for a far from subtle look.

She nodded, ‘Mmmhmmm, you could do far worse Gwaine. If you don’t, I just might.’

He playfully slapped her arm, ‘I’ll tell Leon you said that!’

‘Oh don’t you dare!’ she lent on the table to whisper low, ‘But why not? I mean, I don’t want to be rude, you understand, but it must’ve been a bloody long time for you.’

‘I am…’ he rolled his eyes, ‘It’s been a bloody lifetime, to be honest, but I’ve got better things to think about.’

Gwen bit her lip as she went to speak, ‘Have you heard any more from…’ Catraoine slapped her on the arm.

‘No, not for months.’ he smiled apologetically, ‘He’s gone. I’m starting to accept that but… I also don’t want to move on, so...yeah.’ he cleared his throat, ‘Besides that fella at the bar is about twenty years younger than me and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t have the stamina anymore.’

The three of them continued to drink throughout the night, laughing and singing and reminiscing over happy times, and for the first time in many years, Gwaine felt that he was a good man again.

_THREE YEARS SINCE GWAINE RETURNED TO CAMELOT_

‘Ysmenie. I understand that…’

‘I’m going to be seven, dad, seven!’ Gwaine rubbed his eyes, ‘You said you got your first proper sword when you were seven, so why can’t I have one?’

He got up with a groan, ‘I’ve said you can have one. I’ve organised training for you and have the sword designed to be made for your birthday.’ he bent down in front of her with creaking knees, ‘But you also pushed Sapphira into the lake and you haven’t apologised yet!’

She stomped away from him, ‘She said she wanted to learn to swim.’

‘You can’t...She won’t learn to swim by you just pushing her in, she needs lessons! Poor girl was terrified. She’s only three. Hey, hey…’ he wiped a little tear from her face, ‘I know you were just trying to help, but you still need to make amends, okay?’ she nodded, ‘And then you can definitely have your sword for your birthday.’

_SIX YEARS SINCE GWAINE RETURNED TO CAMELOT_

Leon lowered himself down next to Gwaine, who sat on the edge of the training ground sharpening his sword in the lazy sun of late August. Scattered leaves in red and gold spun down from the trees as Leon held out a flask of ale to share.

‘They look like they’re having fun?’ Leon cocked his head over to the scene in front of them, noticing Gwaine’s shy smile as he kept on with his sword.

‘They’re playing with Arthur and Percy today.’ Gwaine smiled at the two little girls running about each other on toy horses, ‘Ysmenie has been telling Sapphira every story she can remember...and A few new ones. Must say, never knew Arthur had a pet Griffin called Mr.Cuddles but he seems to be a prominent feature now.’

Leon watched them a little longer before broaching the subject he’d been dreading, ‘So...I have something to tell you. The other day when you were visiting Percy’s grave, Ysemnie was asking me about…’

‘Merlin. I know.’ he sighed deeply and took a bigger swig, ‘What did you tell her?’

He shook his head, ‘I said you’d tell her when you’re ready. I don’t think it should come from me. Have you thought about what I said.’

Gwaine nodded silently, ‘Yeah, I have. You’re right of course. It’s been years, I should think about moving on.’ he met Leon’s eyes, ‘But I can’t. Besides, I’ve got Ysemnie. I’ve got you and everyone here. I’ve got Gaius, bless him.’

‘I can’t believe you're still sleeping in that tiny little room.’

‘I gave it to Ysemnie now; she needs the space. I sleep across from Gaius in the workshop now.’ Leon shook his head to Gwaine’s laugh, ‘I know, I know. We could move into proper quarters but… Gaius is like her grandfather. To be honest he’s become a father to me. He misses Merlin just as much as I do; I don’t want him to be alone at his age.’

‘Of course, of course.’ Leon nodded.

They sat watching the children play some more, and Leon knew Gwaine was right. His life _was_ good; it was just a shame he looked so lonely when he thought no one was looking.

_TEN YEARS SINCE GWAINE RETURNED TO CAMELOT_

Gwen gave Gauis a quick hug as she wandered over to Ysmenie’s room. Gwaine was getting his boots on as she kissed him on the cheek, ‘Ready for the next training session.’

‘I do believe Sapphira is taking over today. Ysemnie’s got too good. Hello little one!’ he waved to Thomas who hid behind Gwen’s skirts, such a shy little boy, but imbued with all the sweetness of both his parents, ‘Catraoine has taught her how to train Ysemnie with enchanted swords so I’m off for a walk. It’ll happen to you too Gwen.’ he shouted through Ysmenines door, ‘You won’t be needed anymore! You’ll be thrown away.’

‘Oh do shut up dad, you know I love you.’ Ysemnie breezed through and hugged her dad, ‘You’re just too easy to beat now. Hi Gwen. Hi Thomas, do you want to come to play outside. I’ll keep a good eye on him, don’t worry.’ she whisked Thomas up onto her hip, just as Gwaine carried her to Camelot all those years ago, and made her way to the training ground.

They watched as she left. The sweet little girl he’d found all those years ago had suddenly become a young woman, tall and strong and well on track to being the finest with a sword the kingdom had ever seen. Oh, how Arthur would be jealous his title had been taken.

‘She’s a testament to you Gwaine.’

‘Oh Gwen, she’s a testament to herself, I’m just glad I get to see her grow up. Care to join me on the walk?’ Gwen threaded her arm in Gwaines' as he grabbed the list of herbs Gaius needed, ‘Didn’t you want sticklewort too?’

The old man pushed his glasses back up his nose, ‘I wrote that down, didn’t I?’

Gwaine smiled and added it to the list, ‘Oh so you did.’ he reproduced the paper with the new addition, ‘See you later.’

‘Oh, Gwaine.’ Gaius called after them, ‘Can you tell Merlin that Arthur was asking for him. I said he was at the tavern. Can never keep track of that boy!’

Gwen went to speak but Gwaine squeezed her arm, ‘Of course, I’ll let him know.’ he led Gwen out into the corridor, ‘It’s too heartbreaking to correct him.’

That night he returned to find Gauis already asleep with Ysemnie watching him over two flagons of ale at the table, the faint light of the lantern playing over the bottles on tinctures and leather-bound books, ‘He got really scared tonight. Said he couldn’t recall when he last saw Merlin. Apparently he’s on a quest with Arthur.’ she looked back over to her grandfather, ‘I gave him a sleeping draught. Told him Merlin would be back tomorrow. He won’t remember but it made me calm.’ 

Ysemnie was nearly fifteen, but Gwaine looked into her eyes, as emerald and sparkling as the day they found each other, and infinitely wise.

He took a deep breath and lowered himself onto the opposite seat, thankful for the ale she’d laid out, ‘Oh god. It’s time isn’t it?’

She nodded with sympathy, ‘It is dad. It is.’ she reached out to hold his hand, ‘Tell me about Merlin.’

_ONE WEEK LATER_

Gaius was running. 

_Running._

The man was in his nineties and yet Gwaine was watching him sprint across the training ground. It was quite a feat, really.

‘What on earth’s the matter?’

Gwaine steadied him to sit down, the seat next to him was still unoccupied by Ysemnie, who was, for the first time in her life, _late_ for training.

Gaius was beaming a smile, ‘Merlin’s back! Not sure where Arthur is, that clot pole!’ he giggled to himself, ‘But Merlin is going to come home tonight, for dinner. I’ll make chicken soup! You like that, don’t you? I’ll make a big pot.’

He hated this. It had been steadily getting worse over the last year, but this was the most animated he’d ever seen his adopted father. When it got this bad, he had no choice but to fall back on the story he’d developed with Gwen and Catraoine, the only story that would pout Gaius’s mind at ease, ‘Don’t you remember, Gaius? Arthur and Merlin moved away to the countryside.’

‘No! Gwaine! He’s been travelling!’

This was a new development, thought Gwaine.

‘He’s been all over Albion and he decided to come home.’

He wished he could believe the old man, but ten years? Who knew is Merlin was even alive now. Gwaine knew Gaius didn’t mean to this, he knew Gauis would never want to cause Gwaine pain, but it didn’t make his heart any less heavy. He pulled him into a big hug, as much to comfort him as to hide his own tears, ‘Gaius. Oh, Gaius, I wish that was true but...’

Over his shoulder, Gwaine saw the blurred outlines of Ysemnie and Sapphire sprinting around the corner. His daughter stopped short of him, hells dug into the ground to stop her falling down from effort of sprinting, ‘Black hair…’ she panted, ‘Black hair, bit curly.’

‘What are you on about?’

She frantically rolled her hands over each other, trying to conjure the words, ‘Black hair! Give me a moment.’ she caught her breath and started again, ‘And blue eyes, you said really blue eyes.’

Gwaine stood up, his heart hammering, ‘What are…’

‘Quite thin. Taller than you, I think...Would you say…’

‘Yeah!’ chimed in Sapphira, ‘Yeah taller definitely! Delicate features.’

Gwaine was shaking like a leaf as Ysemnie grabbed him by the shoulders, ‘And a neckerchief. A red neckerchief.’ she smiled so brightly the sun seemed dim in comparison, ‘Dad. He came back.’

‘W...Who?’ he couldn’t bring himself to hope. They had to be wrong. Of course, they were wrong.

‘Merlin has returned, dad. He’s come home to you.’

And right then, the world stopped turning.


	77. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (5)

Gwaine was sure he was walking, either that or the ground was rolling on its own accord beneath his feet. He could feel Ysemnie holding him up, the wind pushing through his hair like gentle fingertips, but none of it felt real, as though his soul had peeled back from his body, and existed just beside him. The cheers and running feet of the crowds towards the castle steps were heard only as a muffled memory compared to the thumping of blood in his ears. He felt his head turn to look behind him at Gaius, who smiled merrily as he plodded long on Sapphira’s arm. Was there a chance he was right?

The dense crowds of people made way for Sir Gwaine and the Lady Ysmenie, but still, they couldn’t see the eye of the storm, the centre of joyous commotion amongst the jostling bodies. The red cloaks of knights swept past like the beating wings of birds as banners were hoisted high.

Just in front of him, Gwaine saw Leon buried in a deep embrace of a stranger, but all the tears upon his face seemed to stop in their tracks when he saw Gwaine. Slowly, the knight released from the hug, tenderly leading the strangers' shoulders around to face him.

Same black hair.

Same delicate features.

Hadn’t aged a day.

His knees cracked down against the stone floor as he fell, numb and lurching. Briefly, Ysmenie shouting out to help him rang in his ears, but with a wave of his hand, the whole scene fell to pin-drop silence.

Merlin knelt down before him, almost bowing, head hung low in reverence. His fingertips were hesitant, but when meeting Gwaine’s eyes, Merlin grew bold enough to stroke his stubbled jaw. In that moment Gwaine knew it was not some divine apparition but that the love which drowned out the sight of all others had returned. His stomach churned. It was only when he collapsed from breathlessness outside the castle boundary he realised he’d ran away. His frantic eyes searched about him, but he was alone, and he screamed.

Oh, how he screamed.

Through the cries of insurmountable grief, Gwaine rocked to and fro, hands pulling his greyed hair to breaking point as a murmuration of birds took flight in shock.

‘Dad?’

Gwaine scrambled away from the touch to his shoulder, ashamed to be seen so weak by his daughter as he wiped his nose, tensing into a tiny ball huddled in the tufts of grass, ‘Ysmenie you should go, you shouldn’t see me like…’

‘Oh do shut up.’ came her retort as she sat down next to him, ‘How many times did you comfort me when I cried?’

‘That’s different. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.’

‘Except it’s not, is it?’ Gwaine sheepishly met Ysemnies eyes, ‘You owed me nothing. When you found me, after...You took me back to Camelot because you are a knight and that was the right thing to do. But everything after that, you _chose_ to do. You didn’t have to sit and learn how to braid hair from Gwen for me. You didn’t have to train me with the sword, to help me become a knight. Didn’t have to get me tutors and clothes and ride out to my parents grave every year,   
you didn’t have to do…’ her voice caught for a moment, ‘I’ve watched you. When you thought I wasn’t looking. And we have had the best of times but I know you have been so lonely and so sad.’

He gathered himself and enveloped Ysemnie in a bear hug, ‘I’m… How could I be sad when I have you?’

‘That’s not how it works dad. You know it isn’t.’ she brushed the tears away from under her dad's eyes and sighed, ‘I’m not going to be here forever and I don’t think, if you're honest, you want to stay in Camelot anyway; I’ve heard you talking to Gaius about some cottage on the outskirts...You deserve your own future. You deserve a future where you aren’t alone.’ feeling she was losing the battle, Ysmenie placed a kiss on Gwaine’s head and got to her feet, ‘Merlin is coming to have dinner with me and Gaius tonight. You should be there.’ she walked back through the gates but couldn’t risk it, turning back just one last time, ‘You should _really_ there, dad.’

…

Ysemenie hadn’t _got it_ as yet, as she sat down opposite Merlin. The man didn’t speak, just nodded with his head down over the soup, quietly smiling at Gaius. All those years not knowing anything about the man, she’d had to conjure her own images of how he looked. Percival, by all accounts, was a mountain of a man, rippling in muscles, so assumed Merlin must be of the same breed. Yet before he sat skinny as a rake, skeletal almost, all his gangly limbs hunched into themselves in, was it shame? Fear? Gwaine still hadn’t turned up and from the furtive glances at the spare seat next to her, she could tell Merlin was feeling his absence like a hole in the head.

‘Do you not like your soup, Ysmenie? I worked very hard on it.’ Gaius started her out of her pondering, ‘You’ve been holding that spoon to your lips for a good long while now.’

‘Oh no, grandad, it’s lovely. Just tired.’

Finally, Merlin looked up, ‘Grandad? Gaius I...I had no idea you had children?’

‘Do I?’ the old man's face lit up, ‘I always wanted children. Are you my son?’

Ysmenie reached to take Gaius’s hand, ‘Gwaine. Your son is called Gwaine.’ Merlin spoon fell into the soup with a loud splash, she turned to the illusive man sat dumbfounded at the table, ‘And I’m Gwaine’s daughter. Remember?’

‘Oh...Oh yes, how silly of me. I’ll go make some tea.’

Merlin stared at Ysemnie, desperately trying to find some similarity of appearance between her and Gwaine when she let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, ‘ _Adopted_.’ she reached and poured herself a tankard of ale, holding the mug in her fist as she leaned one hand on her knee. Now, that looked like Gwaine, Merlin thought, ‘So...You’re him. How come it took you ten years?’ Merlin went to speak, ‘Busy, were you? Too good to come home?’ her tankard slammed down harder than she meant it to, ‘Do you have the faintest idea how much he has suffered from…’

‘That’s enough now.’ Gwaine hobbled through the door, ‘Don’t get up. I just came to get my cane.’

‘Dad, you should be inside, it’s too cold out there for your joints.’

He waved her off, hating being so distant to her but so desperate to get back outside he didn’t care.

‘Gw…’

‘Don’t.’ and with that, Gwaine’s cane took on its steady rhythm and vanished into the night.

Merlin’s head hung lower than before, nearly resting on the table for the weight of pain he carried, unable to bring himself to even look. Suddenly, two arms were hoisting him up out of the chair and to his feet, dusting off his tunic from the spilt soup with frustration, ‘Are you going to go after him or not?’ Yesmenie demanded, straightening out his neckerchief, ‘Because my dad didn’t spend ten years crying himself to sleep every night so that the love of his life returns only to not have balls to go fight for him!’ she pulled him onto his tiptoes by the scruff of his collar with ease despite him being nearly a foot taller than her already, ‘Listen. I don’t care if there are legend about you, _Merlin_. I don’t care if you’re some special sorcerer or just a man, because all I care about is my dad being happy. So, I will say this once. If you hurt him, no magic in this world will stop me from running you through, okay? And you not running after him counts as hurting him, so off you pop.’

She dropped Merlin to rock back on his heels, steadying himself on the table edge, D...Do you know where he’s gone?’

‘No. But I’m sure you do.’ she raised an eyebrow at him, another adopted characteristic from Gaius this time making itself known before she shooed him out the door and into the night.

…

Gwaine began wandering towards the tavern, but he knew there wasn’t enough ale there, or indeed anywhere, to drown it all out. He meandered past the entrance and kept walking until he inevitably found himself in the forest. While knowing he would regret sitting down in the damp earth, Gwaine lowered himself down anyway; the pain in his knees having never fully recovered from his coma was the least of Gwaine’s worries.

He swung his head back and hit the tree, which proved the final straw before he broke into a bitter laugh. After all those endless nights of wishing for Merlin to return, those desperate hours of the early morning where the yearning in his chest felt like his heart would be ripped from its cavity, but now he was finally back...The truth was, Gwaine had to reconcile with himself, was that he was angry. So incredibly, bristling with rage, that Merlin would leave him for _ten years_ to simply waltz back into his life. 

His laughter came to an abrupt stop having noticed, ‘As you said to me all those years ago, Merlin, _get away from me_.’

Merlin scuffed his feet in the leaves, ‘I would, but I’ve been reliably informed by your daughter that if I do she’ll have my head on a spike.’

‘That’s my girl.’ Gwaine muttered to himself, eyes proudly raised to the night sky, ‘Well, looks like you in a bit of a rut then because if you stay I might just kill you myself.’

‘I guess it was foolish of me to think you’d be happy that…’

‘Yeah. Yeah, it was.’ Gwaine sucked his teeth, ‘Never thought of coming back until now? Not once? I clearly didn’t mean much to you in that…’

‘You could have come and found me, Gwaine.’

‘You told me to go! You told me to go and I had to respect that and stay away! Do you think if I had the slightest idea you wanted me, that I wouldn’t have come running to you? Hmm? If you honestly think I don’t love you enough to run off the edge of the world then you never knew me at all.’ Gwaine tried to get up and storm off only to collapse back into the ground, ‘No, no I don’t need your damn help, I can...Fine.’ he took Merlin’s arm and, once steadily on his feet, shook himself free, ‘Why now?’

Merlin looked down at the floor, ‘I had to be sure that…’

‘Just stop it, with all the riddles and destiny and mysticism. You ten years to get ready for this conversation so just tell me the damn truth.’

He might have barely aged, but the toll of the years was suddenly visible on Merlin’s furrowed brow as he rubbed at it with exhaustion, ‘When I killed Cendred and the castle fell...I destroyed the Horn of Cathbadhad with it. Whatever the legends want to say about my magic, communicating with the other side isn’t exactly easy.’ Gwaine realised Merlin was staring at his hands, repressing the urge to reach out, ‘I had to ask Arthur if it was okay…’ he whispered, ‘I had to ask Percy too because I knew you would never…’

Gwaine couldn’t look at Merlin, turning away to gather himself, ‘And, um...What did they say?’

He felt Merlin step closer as the warmth of his body grew closer, ‘They said they wanted us to be happy. Together.’

The night breeze was gentle as it played through Gwaine’s hair; the stars twinkling in gratitude as he looked up towards Avalon’s waters. _Thank you, Percy._ he mouthed.

‘That is only, of course, if you’ll have me…’ Merlin whispered.

‘You really _don’t_ know me if you have to ask that. I thought the answer would be more than obvious.’

From behind him, Merlin let out a grief-stricken sigh, ‘I understand. I...I’ll go.’

Gwaine grinned as Merlin began to walk away, ‘You absolute idiot.’ he muttered, and with a boyish joy he rushed over to Merlin and bundled him into his arms, ‘Complete and utter idiot.’

And for the first time in ten long years, Gwaine finally kissed the man he had always loved under the applauding stars. He giggled as Merlin stumbled back, breathless, ‘You alright there, blue eyes?’  
‘Oh god, I’m… yeah, it’s…’ Merlin broke into a hearty laugh, ‘Ten years of celibacy...And that was one hell of a kiss. Just need a moment to…’  
Gwaine cut him short as his lips met Merlins once more, ‘Wait. Wait! Do you really mean it? Are we finally going to be together?’

Gwaine stroked the soft curls of black hair, one arm wrapping itself around Merlin’s middle pulling the two of them together, foreheads pressed tight, ‘Yes. Finally, I’ll get to love you in the sunlight.’


	78. My Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW's at the bottom

Gaius slept soundly once Ysmenie reassured him Merlin and Gwaine weren’t, as he had convinced himself, off fighting a war. She brushed a few strands of silver-white hair from his brow and wandered, as silently as she could on those creaking old floorboards, over to the vast array of books crammed onto the walls. Volumes of potions and lore, history and science, magic and mystery. He’d read them all to her.

_’Well...Alright then.’ Gaius smiled, plucking the large leather-bound book from the highest shelf, ‘But you’re not to let your dad know I let you stay up this late. You have your tutor coming in the morning.’ Ysmenie wiggled her legs off the edge of the bench as she mimed locking her lips shut; a gesture which would become commonplace every time Gwaine went out on night patrol._

_‘Right. Now this story is of how Arthur came to be born. It is a very grown-up story, so tell me if…’_

_‘Gwaine cried.’_

_Gaius stopped in his tracks, kneeling down beside the little girl despite the hard stone playing havoc with his knees, ‘Really?’_

_‘I...I called him dad a few days ago. Do...do you think he doesn’t want to be my dad?’_

_‘Oh, my dear.’ he brushed the beginning of a tear from her face, ‘Gwaine has become like a son to me, so believe me when I say he is thrilled to be your dad. You know, people can cry when they are very happy, not just when they are very sad.’_

_‘Would...you cry if you were my grandad?’ she bit her lip, that bright cherub of a girl, nervous of the question._

_The old man's lip trembled, for he’d never dreamed of having a family, and yet one had arrived right on his doorstep, ‘I think I just might, but not before we’ve finished this story and had some tea.’_

_Ysemnie hugged him, her tiny arms right around his neck, and before jumping back up onto the bench and listening eagerly for tales of Uncle Arthur._

Her fingers brushed the cracked spine of that self-same book looking down on her. There were a lot of good memories in those modest chambers, and her heart sank a little, for fear Merlin had arrived to ruin them all. With a whoosh, the candles next to the bookshelf came to life. She turned to find Sapphira huddled in the doorway, hair wrapped in lilac silk ready for bed, ‘Thought I’d check in.’ she spoke softly, easing the words into the now illuminated room, ‘I saw Gwaine leave a while back?’ Beckoned in, Sapphira flicked her hand to bring the door closed, the small spark of gold flickering in her eyes before she sat, ‘How are you holding up?’

A sigh escaped despite herself, ‘I just don’t want him hurt. I’ve heard amazing things about Merlin, but it doesn’t change the fact he left my dad all alone in the world. I know, I know he had his reasons but...I just wish I could make it all better for him.’

Sapphira wrapped her robes around her as she sat, ‘Can you imagine loving someone so much you wait ten years on the off chance they return? To care so selflessly for another?’

Ysmenie felt her throat go dry, ‘Yes. I think I can.’ she whispered.

‘It’s rather beautiful really. That level of devotion.’ glancing back at Gaius, Sapphira got up, ‘I don’t want to wake him, I should go.’ she began to tread away lightly on the floorboards when something in her chest pulled her to turn around, ‘Do you want to come with me? I don’t like the idea of you alone tonight…’

‘Thank you, Sapphira. I’d like that very much.’ Ysmenie nodded, following her dear friend out into the corridor; Gaius would be alright until morning, and a night laughing away with Sapphira sounded much better than worrying about her dad all night. As they began to climb the stairs, they just missed the sight of Gwaine and Merlin sneaking back into the castle.

‘Well, this is me…’ Gwaine hovered just outside the door to Gaius’s chambers, ‘I...I…’

Merlin let out a quiet laugh, ‘You’re staying in my old room?’

‘No...I’m on a camp bed; Ysemnie needs the room.’ Gwaine wrung his hands, ‘I don’t want to be.... _presumptuous_.’ he cleared his throat as Merlin playfully bit his lip, ‘But, perhaps we could…’

‘Find a room?’ the breath was stolen from Gwaine’s lungs as Merlin pressed their bodies together, the door creaking ever so slightly from the weight, ‘You can make all the presumptions you want providing we find a quick enough. Shall we?’ Merlin brushed past him, a tentative but flirtatious grin lighting up his face, which only grew wider hearing Gwaine hurriedly follow after him.

The castle of Camelot had seemingly hundreds of guest rooms, and just around the corner, they came across a full corridor of them, opting for the one furthest away from Gaius’s chambers, just in case its inhabitants weren’t yet asleep. Merlin opened the door for Gwaine to slip through before backing against it when closed. He didn’t light the candles, as was his custom, finding the cloak of darkness a suitable cover for his nerves. Both breathed shallow.

‘Can you light the fire?’ Gwaine murmured through the heavy trail of his eyes over Merlin’s body, ‘It’s my joints…’ he shrugged, wishing that cold ache would leave him so the vigour of his youthful body might make a reappearance.

He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the firelight or if Merlin really was trembling so profoundly at his touch, but either way, Gwaine was gentle as he led Merlin by the hand towards the bed. They perched on the edge, still clothed and held hands a while. Both too scared to make the first move. As Merlin’s eyes slipped away to the floor, Gwaine realised the man still didn’t believe he was wanted there and perhaps was patiently waiting for Gwaine to change his mind, order him to go. 

‘When I spoke to Percy, he told me then he wanted me to be happy. To move on.’ he brushed his fingers through Merlin’s hair, ‘He said it was all meant to be…’

‘Arthur said that too. Meant to be.’

Gwaine leaned his cane against the nightstand and undid the clasp on his cloak. He pulled loose the fastenings on his shirt to lay it down. He pushed off his boots and climbed further across the bed, raising himself on one elbow to reach out a hand to Merlin. The deity crawled towards him, soft black hair making a nest against Gwaine’s bare skin, ‘Is this okay?’ Gwaine asked Merlin's grateful nod. He turned and tenderly wrapped his arms around him, ‘And this?’ Merlin grew weak at the touch, pliant against his lover, ‘And to kiss you? Would that be okay too?’

Pleading blue eyes met with Gwaines. Delicate fingers brushed through the stubbled on his face as the mattress creaked in the quiet with the roll of their bodies towards one another. The kiss, ten years in the making, was as brief and sweet as the swallow of honey. 

‘I love you, Merlin.’ he breathed, ‘Let's not fuck it up again, eh?’

‘Where do we go from here?’

‘Nowhere tonight. Tonight, I’m going to make love to you.’

Merlin’s hands held Gwaine’s face tightly, ‘Yes. You are.’ he pulled his lover into a kiss.

Gwaine’s hands slid under Merlin’s clothes, heated fingers pushing into his skin like butter and pulling with increasing want to free him from the fabric. With no one to hear them, and for once nothing to hide, Gwaine didn’t restrain the whimper as Merlin’s teeth bit into his lip, tugging lighting, eyes of sapphire coaxing him on. A thin breeze caught in the curtains drew the hair on their arms to attention, but rather than close the window and part, Gwaine rocked his body over Merlins, on hand steadying himself as he brought the blankets over them. His body was shivering, the anticipation of making his legs weak as Merlin arched his back, slowly stripping off his trousers before tender fingers brushed the fastenings on Gwaine, ‘I want you to say my name while you fuck me.’ he whispered, Gwaine nearly collapsing for the shock of being so wanted, ‘Make love to me, Gwaine, Please.’

Merlin sounded as though he was begging, but by the sure way he grasped Gwaine suddenly, watching with delight as his lover couldn’t stop himself from rocking into his palm, so starved of touch, both men knew who was at the mercy of the other. Gwaine nodded, desperately, and when Merlin released him and wrapped his legs around Gwaine’s back to pull him closer, a decade of lust overtook him. He pushed himself into Merlin, whose head flung back with ecstasy before he pulled on Gwaine’s hair with both hands, bringing their foreheads together, eyes locked, with the vigorous ruts of their bodies entwined.

‘Oh, oh god, Merlin.’

‘Yes.’ Merlin pulled him down, lips pressing into his ear, ‘Say my name, Gwaine.’

He came to a stop, pushing himself up to bear over Merlin with the strong, defined arms of his youth. Without so much as a whisper, he guided Merlin’s hands around his own throat. He pushed Merlin’s fingers into his skin, smirking before his lover understood. Merlin brushed his two thumbs over his Adam’s Apple before slipping them around Gwaine’s neck. As his grip grew tighter, Gwaine went faster. Harder. Merlin’s nails nicked into the back of his skull, as he pushed his hips up higher. The sight of Gwaine mouthing his name, unable to utter any actual sound for the delight of being choked, made Merlin’s eyes tear with the heat of pleasure. Inside him, he could feel Gwaine getting close, pulsing and stretching him.

‘Do you want to come?’

Gwaine tried to nod.

‘Say it.’

‘I…’ he didn’t have enough breath for words, only to keep thrusting.

‘Then do it.’ at the words Gwaine hesitated, too awestruck by Merlin’s gaze. His lover gave a gentle smile, loosening one hand from his neck to stroke the stubble on Gwaine’s cheek. Without warning, Merlin’s palm hit hard and loud across Gwaine’s cheek before resuming its place tightly on his neck, ‘I said do it, Gwaine.’

‘Yes, Merlin.’ he struggled to breathe, pulling up his knees to pound deeper inside. Merlin was shaking, trying to ride him from below but collapsing to just let the sensation be his master, ‘Fuck. Merlin, I’m…’ Gwaine fell breathlessly on top of Merlin. His whole body felt weak, his mind quiet, eye-rolling in their sockets. 

He rolled over onto his back and with a lazy hand reached down to Merlin, who was yet to be satisfied, ‘Use me.’ he whispered, pulling Merlin's body onto his with what little strength remained. 

Merlin straddled his chest when he placed his thumb in Gwaine's mouth. He dutifully sucked. Swallowed. He took his thumb back and watched as Gwaine’s lips stayed parted, tongue slightly out to receive, when Merlin pushed his cock in. Gwaine searched for Merlin’s hands which he wrapped around the back of his head, letting his lover control how he served him. Merlin started slowly, pulling and pushing Gwaine’s head along his shaft, so close already, but edging along the precipice of climax with every controlled pause. But then Gwaine, as spaced out and willing to be used he was, had a hunger of his own, and began moving his own head, even pulling Merlin by the hips to hit the back of his own throat, gagging. The ravenous sucking brought Merlin to a shuddering burst of thrusts before, grunting like an animal, he came and watched his lover swallow.

He quietly moved off Gwaine and slipped an arm under his neck to pull him into an embrace. Gwaine nuzzled against his collarbone and Merlin felt him smile into his skin and he kissed his hair. 

‘I really love you, Merlin.’

He stroked the tiny bruise marks on Gwaine’s neck, remembering with bliss how much Gwaine wanted them there, ‘Oh, I love you too, Gwaine. My prince.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Smut, consensual choking, consensual slapping


	79. To Pass with Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (7)
> 
> **24/10/2020  
> Realised a giant chunk of this chapter randomly got deleted in the middle, so reuploaded with the missing paragraphs!

_FOUR YEARS SINCE MERLIN RETURNED_

‘I can’t believe you’re doing this.’

From the corner of the room, Merlin rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

‘How...How could you?’

With a sigh, Merlin got up, ‘It’s not me that’s _doing_ this. It’s your dad.’ he adjusted the flowers pinned to Ysemnies bodice, ‘He wants it all...traditional, I don’t know. I’d be happy for you to turn up in your pyjamas but I don’t get a say, apparently.’

Ysmenie groaned at the oversized dress hanging from her shoulders as Gwen tried to pin it in, ‘Knights don’t dress like this. It’s a ceremony; I should be in my ceremonial clothes. Not this flowery monstrosity.’

Gwen paused her work, hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, ‘I still can’t believe you let Gwaine plan the wedding, Merlin.’

He threw his hands in the air, ‘You and me both!’ Merlin poured out a glass of wine as the midday sun rose into the room, ‘He was never one for all that. Just wandered about with a satchel and two fraying shirts, yet now he’s all…'

'Refined dear.' Gwaine swaggered in with another bolt of silk, 'The word is refined. Ysemnie, you look lovely, stop complaining, besides...dress isn't for you.'

His daughter looked quizzically at him, Merlin also confused.

'Well, Princess Sapphira is away until tonight and Gwen needed someone to get the rough measurements. As if I'd make you wear a dress, what do you take me for.' He pecked a kiss on Merlin's cheek, 'Nice acting, love.'

In the corner of the room, still in the makeshift bed he'd inhabited since Merlin first arrived in Camelot, bright eyed and unsullied by life, Gaius stirred. His eyes now milky where they had once sparkled with crystal clear intellect glazed over the four of them, mouth twitching on the edge of words he could no longer reach, names he could no longer remember. A wrinkled finger pointed towards Merlin, 'Who...Who…' the old man chewed over the words, 'Who is he?'

Merlin placed his wine on the table with a sunken brow, 'I'm Merlin…' The look on Gaius's face quickly told him the script must be repeated once more, 'I'm Merlin. Huniths son.'

'Huniths son? But you're not meant to be here until Wednesday.'

'It is Wednesday.'

'Ahh!' They watched as he determinedly climbed out of bed, stared out the window with purpose, and then shuffled back beneath the covers, unsure as to why he had ever left.

The crack in Merlin's veneer smile hadn't been lost on Gwaine. In no small way, Gaius had been Merlin's father, as he had been Gwaines' when he returned, as he had been Gwen's, when she lost her parents. But saddest of all was Ysemnie who, orphaned so young she could not recall her birth family, saw Gaius to be her blood. Gwaine raised her, yes, but Gaius had taught her about the history she loved, sneaked her sweets and cakes from the palace kitchen, tucked her in at night when she worried for her father on patrol. She had known loss all too well, and losing her grandfather was all too much. Her chest hitched as she pushed back the years and gently stepped out of the dress only to lose her composure entirely and run from the room.

Gwaine made a start after her, but Merlin steadied him, 'Let me.' He mouthed, wearing his grief like a fine robe, a feather light mask.

Merlin found her in the stables; it had become one of her favourite places because that was where she came before and after training, but her father's knew this wasn't really why. Ysmenie’s horse was housed alongside the young Princess Saphhira’s steed and, even in the enlightened times brought about by Leon and Catraoine’s rules, was still one of the few places an orphan and a monarch could talk as true equals. 

'It's truly awful, isn't it?'

Ysmenie jerked up from her spot in the corner and rubbed her bloodshot eyes until they were painfully dry, 'What do you mean?' she feigned.

'I mean,' began Merlin, taking a seat next to her in the ground with considerable effort, 'That your dad can't deal with what happening to Gaius, and so he tells himself, and you, and me, and everyone that Gaius is just a little confused, a bit tired, and will be feeling better tomorrow. But no matter how much he doesn't want to believe it, Gaius is an old man. Hell, he was an old man when I came here some thirty years ago. And as it is the way with minds as sharp as his, they become blunted over time, they become smooth and fluid; unable to grasp at the things that were once so easy to understand. At the people they love.' He held out his hands, ‘And it fucking hurts.’

Ysmenie dropped her hand into Merlins, ‘Sure does. I… Nevermind.’ Merlin cocked his head, beckoning her to continue, ‘Dad won’t listen but I have tried to tell him. Gaius isn’t going to last until next year, is he? Not, up here.’ She tapped her temple and sighed, ‘He won’t know why he’s out of his room, why he’s dressed up. All the music and the people will frighten him and I don’t think… I don’t think dad could bear that. Not really.’

The early afternoon sun fell between the rafters of the stable roof, catching gold reflections in the rising dust of the straw. A beautiful, serene day. Merlin gave her hand a squeeze, ‘I suspect Gwaine knows that deep down. Let's do something about it. Give me an hour, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Ysmenie half smiled.

‘You going to stay here a while?’ She nodded sadly, ‘That’s alright. You take as long as you need.’

He got to his feet slowly, clutching his cane as he did when Ysmenie called after him, ‘Thanks dad.’ And the very last cracks in his heart sealed shut and shined.

*

Gwaine was found as he always was when Gaius forgot them: huddled over on the third step from the top of the castle entrance, eating an apple he’d doubtlessly stolen from under the nose of the palace cooks. He lent his head on to Merlin’s shoulder, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck.

‘So, Ysmenie was telling me…’

‘She’s right.’ Gwaine sighed, ‘She’s alway been cleverer than me when it comes to these things.’

‘ _More clever_ , my love.’ Merlin rubbed his knee with a soft laugh, ‘I’ve got an idea, but it’s going to mean we’re doing away with all the fancy flower arrangements and fine clothes. Is that alright? I know how much you’ve been planning this.’

Gwaine blinked back a tear, ‘I never really minded about all that. I wanted our wedding to be perfect for you, for us, that’s all.’

‘It will be perfect because it _is_ us.’ He pressed his forehead to Gwaines had begun to show the lines of his age where Merlins, as ever, was as smooth as when he was a young man spotted across the tavern by a rogue traveller, who had no idea he’d caught the first glimpse of the love of his life. Just then, Catraoine came walking down the castle steps, ‘Catra!’ Merlin called to her, ‘Catra, we need your help.’

The queen raised her eyebrows, ‘What with?’

*

The summer evening was descending on the forests surrounding Camelot when Leon and Sapphira came riding at full tilt through the castle gates. Ysemenie helped the young princess from her horse and excitedly rushed her into the castle to get ready with haste, while her father borrowed the horse and rode south with the king.

‘You told me I had a damn year to work on my speech Gwaine! I haven’t a clue what I’m going to say now!’

‘You’re an intelligent man, Leon, you’ll think of something!’ 

The pair laughed as they rode to a small clearing in the forest canopy. Catraoine and a few of her attendants were gathered. With whispered words, dormant candles at their feet took flight and flame to settle with the hover of a hummingbird amongst the leaves above. From all directions, a modest crowd made haste to the spot in their day clothes straightened out as best they could with the odd robe and feathered hat grabbed after hearing the news quickly thrown on for the occasion. In the near distance, Gwaine swallowed at the sight of the wagon rolling towards them, ‘Do I look okay?’

Leon smoothed over a stain on Gwaine’s shirt, ‘Of course.’

In the wagon commandeered from a local tradesman, Gwen held onto Gauis’s arm, reminding him with tenderness where they were going and why. Ysmenie shot up and began waving to Gwaine; of course, she had opted to raid the armory for her outfit. He blushed as Merlin steered into view, shaking his head.

 _You just had to pick this place, didn’t you?_ , came Merlin’s voice in his head

You just had to pick this place, didn’t you?, came Merlin’s voice in his head.

_Where else, blue eyes?_

Having come to a stop, Ysemenie was the first to jump from the make-shift carriage, offering her hand to Sapphira to help her down. Leon exchanged a knowing glance with Gwaine. Next came Gwen, helped down by Lance before the both of them eased Gaius into a seat laid out by the attendants. He looked confused, anyone could have seen that, but not in a way that suggested her was scared. Instead, he gazed up at the floating candles with childlike wonder, grinning ear to ear as the trees swayed in the warm breeze. Finally, Merlin graced the ground, the red neckerchief of his youth once again adorning his neck. If Gwaine squinted, he could have almost believed the Merlin he met when he was in his twenties stood before him, it was the same outfit, surely, and with even more certainty, the same flawless face of youth.

‘Friends.’ Leon brought the crowd to a hush, ‘Friends, we are gathered here today for many reasons. The first one being that Gwaine and Merlin have a chronic case of spontaneity and couldn’t possibly wait another day. The second, being that here are two people, two dear friends and comrades of mine, who have found love with one another, which is perhaps the most sacred of human endeavours. And the third reason, if I may, is to honour the ones they, and we, have loved and lost. For to live a life in perpetual grief is not what the noble Percival and Arthur would ever have wanted for either of you. It is with all this in mind that I have been given the gift of joining Gwaine and Merlin in matrimony...finally.’ Another laugh was earned from the gathering, not least from the two groomsmen, whose eyes could not be taken from one another. Leon gestured for them to place their hands together before he began fastening them together with a strip of silk, ‘With this fabric, your two souls and two hearts are bound as one on this day, but it will be your love for one another that keeps you as one. As the king of Camelot, I declare you husbands.’  
A great cheer swelled from the gathering and Gwaine bundled Merlin into his arms. Gwen rose from her seat clapping when she felt a tug at her skirt, Looking down, she expected to find her little boy asking to be picked up, but instead found Gaius looking at her, still in his seat.

‘Whatever’s the matter?’ She crouched in front of him, wiping the trail of tears that skirted past the folds of his wrinkles, ‘Gaius?’

The clarity of his eyes flashed down on her, ‘I’m so happy.’ There was no tremor to his voice, ‘They’ll be happy too now. I always knew, I always…’ His face dropped suddenly, wringing his hands, ‘Do I know you, miss?’

Merlin and Gwaine walked over as the music started up and the flagons of ale were rolled into the clearing. Just as quick as one understanding left him, another dropped fully formed into the old man's mind, leading Gaius to rock to his feet with extreme concern, ‘Merlin! Where have you been? And who, might I ask, is this?’

‘I’m...I’m Gwaine.’ He awkwardly held out his hand, ‘Nice to meet you, Gaius.’

‘Hmm.’ The old man looked him up and down with disapproval, ‘Aren’t you a bit too _young_ to be consorting with this gentleman, Merlin? I’m not sure Hunith would approve, you know. Gwaine, is it? I knew a Gwaine once. Upstanding fellow. Fantastic father to his daughter. Maybe you know him maybe...Have we met?’

Gaius continued like this for most of the night being reintroduced over and over to his family, but there was something a little lighter in his step than before, as though some weight had been lifted from the former physicians shoulders, although no one could seem to figure out what.

After watching Gaius dance with Ysmenie that night, convinced in his own mind she was a young and innocent Lady Morgana, Gwaine and Merlin walked him back to his quarters. They made sure he was sound asleep and kissed him goodnight on the forehead before returning to the party. With a smile on his face, the court physician of Camelot passed away peacefully in his sleep. It seemed to them, when the haze of unutterable grief had cried itself out, that he had clung on to life and what was left of his mind just for them. Just to be sure that, in the end, all was well. Not with the kingdom he served or the prophecies he'd sworn to protect, but simply for the family he never thought he would have.

But as they wondered, hand in hand, nack through the dancing revelry of all those they loved, the newlyweds were still blissfully unaware. Where they tied the knot, the very same spot they had met when Gwaine was banished, the pair snuggled in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, with nothing but the stars and distant laughter by their side. It was then that Merlin turned to his husband, kissed him deeply, and said, ‘There’s something I think you should know. I’ve often thought you might know already, but nonetheless, I should tell you still.’ And then Gwaine kissed Merlin again, not understanding in the faintest how what he had just been told would come to hurt him more than anything that had come before.


	80. What Better Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (8)

The distant memory of his injuries from his assumed last stand with Morgana on the mountain on the mountain returned to Gwaine with age, but not before he’d museled through the rest of Ysemenie’s training and saw her knighted. As Gwaine's mobility declined, Merlin had taken a step back from his role as advisor to the crown, slowly enough to avoid Gwaine believing it was because of his health, but quickly enough to still enjoy tei long summer walks unaided. Ten years into their happy and, against the backdrop of their turbulent youths, laughably domestic marriage, and the once knight finally relented his post; not because he wanted to stop training the knights, but because he knew the young woman he raised would do an infinitely better job. Ysmenie had learned from the best, after all.

Having reached womanhood, Princess Sapphira was crowned Queen of Camelot, marking the continuation of peace and prosperity brought about by her parents. It had been that night during the celebrations when Catraoine came to say goodbye to Gwaine.

‘What do you mean you’re leaving?’ He laughed back, ‘Your whole life is here, Catra. You’re _very best friend in the whole world_ is here. Who am I meant to sneak out and drink with if you leave?’

‘Oh Gwaine. My life isn’t Camelot. My life is Sapphira, who is old enough and bright enough to guide Camelot without my help. And my life is Leon, who I would like to grow old with without the weight of the world on our shoulders. Camelot was my first permanent home, you know? Before that me and my people were nomadic, well, most stayed that way but I hardly could. It’s time to get back to that, I think.’

Gwaine nudged his head towards the young Queen across the court, ‘Won’t you worry for her?’

‘Constantly! I’m her mother! But…’ She pointed just left of Sapphira, ‘My daughter will not be alone. Her knights will protect her. If not out of loyalty then out of fear of what that young Ysmenie can do with a sword.’ Catraoine turned away from Gwaine. She’d learned throughout their long and unplanned friendship that imparting unwanted truths were better received when not looking him in the eye, ‘You and Merlin should think about it. Leaving. Retiring properly. You’ve both earned it, don’t you think?’

‘I’m needed here, Catra. I have work to do and…’

‘What work is left? You’ve trained every knight in this room. You’ve led thousands of patrols and, under your leadership, the knights have kept peace ongoing with minimal casualties. And Ysmenie is all grown up.’

The music fell quiet in Gwaine's contemplation, ‘What am I meant to then, old friend? What’s my purpose? What’s yours?’

‘We don’t have one anymore. And isn’t that just the greatest freedom one can dream of in their twilight?’ 

Merlin waved to them both for help as Gwen dragged him to dance, ‘And what better love to see out my days with, eh?’

‘Exactly. You old sap.’

*

It turned out that country life rather suited Gwaine. His trusted sword hung above the fireplace as a memento of his fighting days while he sat in reading glasses over history books. Outside the bedroom window, the rising sunlight filtered through the Cornflowers and Valerian planted when they first made the move.

His favorite time was summer, where the warmth eased the pain in his joints, and Merlin would walk to sit with him beneath the apple tree. Three summers after Gwaine and Merlin departed from Camelot for good, they spotted Ysmenie riding towards them in the shining gold plated armor of the head of the knights. There was nothing unusual about their daughter coming to visit as she made the short trip as often as her job would allow, but that day she rode with particular haste.

‘Dads!’ She called as he dismounted her horse, tying it up by the small fence beside the vegetable patch, ‘Don’t get up, I’ll come to you, hang on!’

Merlin frowned at his husband who both spotted, quite correctly, that Ysmenie had easily tied up her horse and was simply finding a way to stall coming over to them. She took a deep breath and strode over as though she was marching into a battle.

‘Is everything alright, Yse? You look… _flustered_?’

‘Not the best look for a fearless knight!’ Merlin laughed as he effortlessly got his feet for a hug.

Ysmenie knelt down and kissed Gwaine on the top of his head before settling to sit on the grass in front of them as if she was a child again, waiting to hear stories of Percy and Arthur, ‘Well, I have something important to ask you both. I need to know...How did you _know_?’ They stared back at her blankly, ‘How did you know it was each other you were meant to be with?’

They shared a quick glance and Gwaine found, rather curiously, that the shame he felt over Percival and Arthur was still glowing faintly in his heart, 'Well, I… I guess it was…'

'We didn't.' Merlin half smiled as he took Gwaines' hand to kiss it, 'I don't even know if we are _meant_ to be together. Not in a bad way, I just believe it wasn't fate. We were two young men who fell in love at the wrong time but never really fell out of it again. For better or worse.'. He giggled, gently elbowing Gwaines' rib, 'You just fall in love and decide if that person is worth your love. And, indeed, if you are worthy of theirs. But the real question is, Yse, why you're asking us this _now_?'

With a laughing roll of his eyes, Gwaine put his hand out to Ysmenie’s shoulder, ‘As if we don’t know, Merlin. So, our wonderful daughter is to be married.’

‘Haven’t asked her yet.’ 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, ‘Have you asked Leon and Catraoine for permission?’

‘Oh. Of course not. Asking her parents permission before I ask Sapphira? I think that’s a one-way ticket to getting a slap around the face and flat, cold no!’ Ysmenie wrung her hands, biting her lip, ‘Do you think she’ll…’

‘Yes.’ both her fathers interrupted at once.

Ysmenie stayed until the bright afternoon faded Aurelian to sunset before riding back. She’d chosen a simple ring; a single sapphire set in a thin silver band. The plan, with her fathers' blessings, was to take the Queen Sapphira for a walk by the lake at sundown the following evening, profess her love, and, Ysemnie hoped, spend the rest of her life proving that love to the only woman she’d ever had eyes for.

As they watched her wave them goodbye, Merlin brushed a tear from Gwaine's cheek.

‘I hope I’m around long enough to see the wedding.’ Gwaine whispered as he leant his head to Merlin's shoulder.

‘Don’t talk like that. We _both_ will be there. Come hell or high water.’ He pulled his husband closer, ‘Do you think Ysemnie knows? About...You know.’

‘No.’ Gwaine turned his face to Merlins, a smile filled with sadness spilling over his trembling lips, ‘She’ll work it out when I’m gone. At least she won’t be alone, no matter what Sapphiras answer.’ He gathered himself with a sharp intake of breath and pushed down on his cane, ‘Tea?’

‘Tea sounds delightful.’

And together they walked slowly back into the home they shared, hoping, in vain as always, they might find a way to fix it all.


	81. To Avalon, Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Eleven (9)

_‘It was… strange; the dream. I had this beautiful forest all around me but I just kept looking into this lake, like I was waiting for something. It was so lonely.’_

They’d tried everything. Every spell, every potion, every prayer, but to no avail. It was a fact they had to accept. That they had to make peace with before the end of that fateful night.

Merlin could not die.

But Gwaine, frail and bedridden, could. _Would_ , in fact, before morning rose on a world without him.

‘Hey, hey.’ Merlin whispered, huddled over the bed in his chair, ‘Stay with me love. Ysemnie and Sapphira are on their way. Word has been sent to Leon and Catra and Gwen and Lance. Can’t go before you see them. Or I’ll be very cross with you.’

Gwaine meekly squeezed Merlin’s hand back, ‘Well, I certainly don’t want to make you cross as my last act, do I? Hush now…’ He ached up onto his elbow to thumb away Merlin’s escaped tears, ‘Still here.’ He let his hand fall to Merlin's chest, ‘And always there.’

‘Dad!’ Ysemnie came crashing through the bedroom door to fall on her knees before the bed, ‘Dad. I’m here. We’re all here, they’re just coming in now.’

Gwaine’s throat was too dry to speak. He brushed a strand of dark hair from her face and saw a purple ribbon fastening the braid that fell past her collar bone; just like the day he found her. Sapphira, his daughter in law for three years by then, kissed him on the forehead and stepped back, knowing all too well her dear Ysmenie wouldn’t want to be seen crying; ever the knight, as she was destined to be.

Catraoine had only smiles for him when she entered, as though to make up for the red, rubbed eyes of Leon. Gwen had no such luck concealing her sorrow, nor did Lance as they gripped each other's hands as if facing the end of the world together.

The gathering all stood in silence around his bed, unsure of what to say and if they would even have to time say it if they could find the right words. With a croaking voice, Gwaine smiled at each of them, one by one, ‘Thank you all. I love you all.’ He turned to Merlin, ‘I’ll always love you.’

Gwaine closed his eyes and when he opened them again, strangely could not hear a sound. He watched Merlin’s eyes become frantic. Gwen turned into Lances chest to cry. Catraoine, overcome for the first time he had ever seen, fled the room in sobs. Ysemnie stood stoic, unable to wrench her eyes away from him, but the tears appeared nonetheless. He reached out a hand to Merlin to find it came away from his body, thin as fog. Slowly, Gwaine turned himself around on the bed to sit, finding all the pain of his joints and the struggle of his muscles had flitted away like dust blown from a bookshelf. He tried to hold Merlin’s face only to find his fingers fell through, unable to feel, just one last time, the softness of his skin or the greyed curls of his hair. Gwaine stood to see Ysmenie. Despite knowing neither of them could feel it, he kissed her on the forehead, maybe in some way she know, he hoped.

The light didn’t come right away. Gwaine wandered the cottage for three nights and days before the funeral, watching from the corners as all those he loved sorted through his things. He was proud to see Ysemnine take his sword from the wall and place it in her belt, right next to the tiny dagger he’d given her as he led her to the safety of Camelot at the tender age of four. Gwaine had no idea she’d kept it. He sat with Merlin in the nights, watching helplessly as he pulled the bedsheets to his face trying to inhale the last embers of his lover.

Gwaine walked barefoot by Merlin’s side to the lake as a cohort of knights, Ysemnie included, carried his casket to the water. Few words were said as the care in which his body had been handled, the handpicked flowers from the cottage garden laid to make his bed, spoke louder of their love for Gwaine than their voices ever could. He watched as his body was pushed out to the lake. Ysemnine drew the arrow ablaze from Merlin's whisper spell and pushed down her sobbing as the flames took hold of her father in the distance. It was then that the light came. It flickered like the arrows fire all around him and Gwaine found he didn’t need to walk into it, but rather that the light was rolling towards him in steady waves to carry him to the afterworld.

‘To Avalon, then.’ He whispered to Merlin. And just as the light engulfed him, Gwaine was sure, for just a second, Merlin saw him once more.

When the light faded, Gwaine found himself in a place that seemed oddly familiar; perhaps once glimpsed in a dream. At his feet was a small but deep lake, bordered by a beautiful forest Apple trees, eternally in season. The sunlight was warm on his skin. Sitting down, Gwaine looked into the still and silent water to find he could see Camelot beneath its surface, and so he began to watch.

He watched as Merlin packed up his possessions and returned to the citadel to advise Queen Sapphira. 

He watched the first steps of his adopted grandson across the throne room.

He watched as Ysmenies hair turned grey and she finally realised, some ten years after Gwaine had passed, the truth about Merlin's immortality.

He watched his sword be passed down to his grandson upon his coronation.

He watched Sapphira and Ysemnie die in each others arms in old age, just as it should be.

He watched as Camelot rose to its height and was slowly forgotten by history, mythologised and confined to legend.

He watched as magic fell into nothing more than superstition.

He watched the world revolve through new ages, through wars and revolutions, through plagues and prosperity.

He watched all of this because he watched Merlin.

Across the lake from Gwaine, since long before he himself had died, was Arthur, watching too. As time passed, Catraoine joined him. Then Lance, then Leon, then Gwen. Eventually, Lance and Gwens boys Thomas, who’d grow to be a successful court physician, found his way to Avalon, where he finally met Gaius, whose work and books had inspired him all his life. Ysmenie and Sapphira arrived in their old age together to watch the world, and on it went. Generation after generation of Gwaine's descents and friends gathered by the lake to watch the world they had left behind. Just beyond the orchard, Percival and Hartley were in their modest home, telling stories of their lives and peering into the lake every few centuries.

But Gwaine had no idea any of them were there. 

For, in death as in life, he could not take his eyes from Merlin.

Waiting for his lover, knowing they would be apart for eternity, and loving Merlin no less for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I started writing this fanfiction at the beginning of the lockdown in the UK and, after several life-changing decisions, moving back home, starting my life from near scratch again, and the best part of 80,000 words, it is finished.


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